


Reason Why

by kjstark



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (a little bit-- i mean it's more canon compliant than it isn't), Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Black Panther (2018) Spoilers, Canon Disabled Character, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Disabled Character of Color, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Black Panther (2018), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark/pseuds/kjstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not supposed to know,” Tony says. If they had a dollar for each time they’ve said that to one another, Rhodey would be rich and Tony would be richer. “Ok, there’s a betting pool—“</p><p>All the great stories start like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting On The Clouds To Break

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, couple of things first: This story is ridiculous. I wrote this so I could take a break from another work I'm writing that's waaaaay better-treated than this one. Please keep in mind that this is meant to be a short story so that's why I don't explore many things I should be exploring at length.
> 
> I needed to get this off my chest so that's why I wrote it but like, these two deserve so much better than this silly story. 
> 
> Tags expo: Rhodey & Bucky are both disabled (as they are in canon), and Lila Rhodes is a trans girl
> 
> SamT'Challa is major here; SteveTony are a suggestive thing you can even ignore but I'm tagging so people know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Self-harm (not graphic but like, it's there), self-hate thoughts, anxiety attack.  
> Shoutout to [Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou) for being the utter most amazing beta reader ever. 

It stars of with a vague “James” that leaves them both awkwardly confused. 

Bucky says it first and reaches out for Rhodey’s hand and he shakes it and nods. There are three brief seconds they just stare blankly at each other before they realize something’s off.  

“Right, no, uhm,” Bucky muses as he shakes his head. “You know what? Just call me Bucky, it’d be easier,” he finishes, giving him a smile. Rhodey smiles back, surprisingly easy.   

“Then, call me Rhodey,” he offers, and Steve is staring attentively as their introduction folds. Tony is nowhere in sight.    

It’s the second week of Captain’s whole team being back in the compound. With peaces made, arguments settled, and accords signed. It hadn’t been an easy thing to pull off, a lot of paper work had been done and a shit ton of money Tony had paid to several lawyers.  

But Steve had agreed on working under a group of people to oversee them. His only request was that they’d be the ones to choose who was on said group and that Ross’ hands were kept far away from any official data. Tony had agreed through a third party almost immediately and all of their charges were released.  

Scott was no longer a fugitive and now had his wife’s husband welcoming him back to the country. Sam was able to go back to his VA meetings and Sharon was swiftly put back again in her position at the CIA. Natasha was still on some untraceable island but it was because she wanted to, not because they were after her. Clint had his family resettled with Steve’s pension money and had gotten them all fake ID’s, both of his older kids were going to a self-defense class, and Clint decided to retire this time for good. Wanda was given a legal Visa and Steve even gave her possible colleges she could go to, gave her support if she wished to work it through between college and avenging or if she just chose one. Vision was…Vision, more often than not he was wandering around in the house, but now with the team all back he seemed to be getting his spirit, as he calls it, lifted.  

Bucky, however, he was the wild card, he was the one thing Rhodey hadn’t figured out. Rhodey had startled for about thirty seconds before he had to rush after Tony running to the bathroom to throw up the second they learned Steve’s friend was joining them.  

Apparently, Wanda had worked a way through cleaning Barnes’ programming, in order to make his trigger words useless but without erasing his memory, again. Steve had argued that Bucky didn’t do the things that the Winter Soldier did, claiming they were two different entities, and Sam had brought a lawyer from Hell’s Kitchen that made them win the case in court. So Barnes was no longer a wanted terrorist nor an unreliable teammate. Barnes was possibly his own man for the first time and it showed on his face how hopeful about it he was.  

So that’s why Rhodey found himself smiling back, because it was ridiculous. They were all gathered together in a room, all easy, like nothing ever happened.  

Except that it did. And every night when he has to strap himself out of his prosthetic, he knows.  

Tony hasn’t been out of his lab since they learned the day they had arrived, two weeks ago. And Rhodey’s only had time to meet them now, between physical therapy and upgrading the prototype, that was a ride, with much needed improvement, but he was getting there.  

Neither Tony nor Rhodey were sleeping and he knew, he knew how bad it could get. But Tony had given him a lop-sided smile after they spoke to the president and one Nick Fury and had said “It’s okay, I’m not resentful.” 

But Rhodey knew better, and Rhodey knew how much Tony could give until he was literally left with nothing, and Rhodey knew how many people in Tony’s past had failed to appreciate that. He knew.  

So he doesn’t fully trust all of them. He stares at Steve blankly and doesn’t even blink when Steve is uncomfortable by it; in fact, Rhodey’s almost happy Steve’s uncomfortable. He doesn’t play videogames with Wanda as they used to do, after the Ultron mess. He even hasn’t talked to Natasha since his accident. He only ever speaks to Sam and it’s because Sam had looked at him like a kicked puppy the first time and Rhodey had to reassure him that anything wasn’t his fault, and that he still wanted to be friends with him, more than anyone. 

And then there was Bucky, Bucky unsettles him, in both positive and negative ways. Rhodey’s always trusted his instincts, always let himself be ruled by them, but with Barnes they’re off, they’re unsure. Barnes politely says good morning when they meet in the kitchen, but his knuckles are all red and his shirt is all wet. Barnes seems cold and distant but he pets Steve’s head when he passes him by when Steve’s eating at the table, and he always saves Sam a spot on the couch. It’s like he’s both pieces of his past as a poor Brooklyn boy and his past as a heavily trained soldier. And the worst part is that with all the uncertainty, Rhodey still feels like he can trust him, and it scares the shit out of him. Because inevitably he also wants Barnes to trust him back.  

The thing is, there’s certain realness to Barnes that Rhodey can relate to. He’s not like Steve, even though they’re almost essentially the same: both out time, both supersoldiers. Bucky is a real person, unlike the over-glorified image the world has been given Rhodey about Steve for almost his entire life.  

Bucky, not at all unlike him, is a soldier. A real one. And different from Steve, he isn’t one because he was trying to prove himself, or for the spotlight, the glory. It was because it’s what needed to be done. And damn if Rhodey doesn’t understand that.  

Rhodey found something intriguing there so that’s why Bucky wasn’t completely on his to-keep-an-eye-on list, which was good for the team. Because if Rhodey hadn’t okayed Bucky, Tony wouldn’t have agreed to having him in, and it would’ve probably led to a second war, which absolutely no one needed.  

On his own part, between trying to keep Tony from reaching starvation and dehydration points and learning how to walk again, he was busy and picking himself up, piece by piece. But it wasn’t easy; seven months had already passed and he still couldn’t sleep, and he still woke up breathless when he did sleep, and he still cried at nights.  

Rhodey realized it wasn’t a matter of getting better day by day, it was having really, really bad days and less really, really bad days. Either days where he would curse himself for being useless or days where he wouldn’t get out of bed. Days where he would work non-stop on his prosthetic or his suit or days where he would instead drink, alone, and stare at them until he passed out.  

And little did they all know, that Rhodey was breaking and re-building himself nearly every day. Rhodey couldn’t afford to let anyone know, especially not Tony. Because Tony would drop the second Rhodey drops, he knows, that if Tony was even trying to be put together it was because Rhodey was guiding him through. But there’s only so much Rhodey can take, so he allows himself to break in the really, really bad days, when he really needs to, with the promise that he’ll pull himself up by the day.  

It’s become a vicious cycle, he realizes.  

And Sam catches up on it because Sam knows him, better than Rhodey figures, and looks at him attentively and asks him how he is today, every day. Rhodey bites his lower lip and stares at nothing before replying and Sam gives him raised eyebrows and a bitter smile. “It’s not about you,” Rhodey wants to say, but he knows Sam is aware, that Sam has his own demons and Rhodey knows some of them look like him, because he knows that no matter how much Rhodey says it, Sam is going to keep feeling guilty until one day he won’t.  Rhodey claws his hand on Sam’s shoulder and smiles at him, an honest smile, a hopeful smile, one he can afford to give to a few selected people. With his eyes he says “We’ll get there, we’ll be fine,” and Sam blinks, maybe understanding, maybe just because if he doesn’t he’ll cry.  

And it’s cliché, but he doesn’t want anyone’s pity. He doesn’t need people tip-toeing around him like he’s this fragile thing that will eventually break at any given point. He doesn’t want anyone’s sorry. It’s not going to help in any way so why bother.  

The only help he needs now is from his prosthetics, that’s the only help he’s willing to get.  Because it gives him a purpose and a daily task, which Rhodey needs because otherwise he’d just never get out of bed again. The struggle is both a blessing and a curse, what makes him anxious and at ease. It’s a 50/50, and as he said, a matter of really bad days and less really bad days.  

As an engineer they are a wonder, a serious improvement in science and Rhodey can’t wait ‘till they’re done testing it so Tony can release it to the market. So Rhodey realizes, that without noticing, they’ve just found a way to help yet more people. It’s the only positive thing he can get out of his situation.  

Because he wasn’t always up for being a superhero, it’s not what he dreamed his life would become, ever, but the reason he joined the military always was to make the world a better place, and Rhodey feels quite content with the fact that he’s working to get there, as much as anyone can.  

The days he can think about that are what he considers the less bad days, the days where he can look up to his future with a positive light, the days he can see himself finally coming to peace with who he is now, the day he can see himself happy. Rhodey firmly believes that that’s how he knows he hasn’t permanently hit rock-bottom, because he can still hope and dream he’ll get there, because he needs to, because he wants to, because he deserves to. The only problem is that he can’t, not right now, at least.  

And that’s okay, he guesses, because things need to get bad before they get better and Rhodey doesn’t regret for a single bit his stance in that whole war, even after all, it only makes him stand more firmly, stronger, about that this is what needed to be done, because doing what’s right is never supposed to be easy, and it comes with sacrifices. At least he’s at peace with that and it’s turned out well for him.  

He’s the official co-lead of the Avengers, and he’s the one who decides who joins the team and who doesn’t. It was a position given to him by both Tony and the government, and the group of people – a group that includes Nick Fury and his gang, that was selected by Steve and his team – that are supposed to oversee them can only but accept it. So even with all of that other stuff on his plate he has this, so he knows he can’t afford to break, not once they’re all back to saving the world.  

At least, that’s what he tells himself on the really, really bad days, that he can’t do this, that he’s an idiot for allowing himself this, that he needs to get back on his damn ass, that he’s only but a pile of useless if he doesn’t.  

 

It’s one cold night of those days, Rhodey’s managed to fuck up the prototype again and kept Tony from knowing. 

“Stupid,” he mutters, to the dead of the night in the kitchen. As he walks it tickles and it’s uncomfortable, it’s his fault, he was trying to get some sort of defense mechanism into it in case he found himself fighting out of the suit. His hands are shaking so he spills and the jar of water he was holding slips through his hand, and he makes a mess. “Fuck,” he breathes, and he can’t catch a break. He looks over at the spilled water and broken glass on the wooden floor and he curses.  

He walks through it and sits on one of the chairs of the main kitchen counter and he stares at his legs, glaring. He’s learned that the prosthetic is supposed to make him a walking being, not a badass, useful superhero and it sucks. He hates them, on days like this, he hates them. He hates how they make him fucking less human, less real. He hates that he needs them and that he’s going to permanently need them.  

He sighs and he’s decided. He’s done it before and he knows it’s useless, but he does it anyway, and Rhodey’s yet to find out in what way it helps but he only knows he needs to, he needs that pain.  

So he straps himself out of the legs and tries to push himself out of the chair, using only his God-given legs, and like countless of times before, he fails. He falls knees-first hard on the floor, his hands splattered in the messy floor, catching the higher part of his body before his face can reach the floor, and he exhales heavily, his heart racing.  

He stays there in a push-up position, in the darkness, and he thinks nothing for ten seconds.  

But then he thinks about everything all at once and he’s full-on panicking. He props himself up and falls to one side, pieces of glass piercing through his flesh and his shirt all wet with water and sweat.  

As he puts his back to one of the kitchen cabinet he takes another deep breath, his eyes moving through the darkness of the room, trying to find something to hold on to.  

But he doesn’t, so he cracks, and breaks, and falls apart. He tries to cover his face with his hand but his right hand has a huge piece of glass stuck in his palm so Rhodey brings the other hand to his mouth and his screams into it. His back hurts, his head hurts, his heart hurts.  

His entire body shakes with tears and rage and helplessness and he feels like he’s all alone in the entire world, and it’s suffocating him.  

“Shit,” Rhodey suddenly hears as soon as the lights are turned on. Rhodey shuts his eyes closed because the light hurts and he sighs, so much for not letting anyone seem him at his worst. “Shit,” he hears again, this time closer and Rhodey feels like he’s in another place.  “Rhodes?”  

When Rhodey weakly opens his eyes, he finds Barnes kneeling in front of him, hair wrapped in a pony-tail, gym pants and a black t-shirt, his blue eyes intensely searching for something in his brown ones, his distance well kept. 

Rhodey looks around them like he had been on a trance, like he was high, coming from the rush of his anxiety attack.  

“Well, damn,” he sighs, painfully, looking back at the former World’s Most Wanted.  


	2. Found Me On The Ground Where I Was Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I mean, why aren’t you in your room, sleeping?" he asks, this time looking down, with a more careful tone.
> 
> Bucky smiles bitterly at the floor. "You've got your demons, I've got mine," he says, and then drives his eyes up to meet Rhodes. "You're not alone, Rhodey," Bucky swears, because he knows, better than most people, what isolation can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Self-harm mention, subtle suicidal thoughts (it's only one brief sentence).  
> Again, shoutout to [Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou) for being the utter most amazing beta reader ever, I'm sorry I keep asking you to beta for me. 

Battles, Bucky’s learned, aren’t always picked by oneself. In fact, they’re hardly picked by oneself, it’s only but the lucky ones, the ones who are able to pick their own fights. Steve and Tony were those lucky ones, him and Rhodes were the opposite side of that spectrum.  

Ever since he read Rhodes’ file he’s known the man was more than just what he seemed. Bucky had soon found what a strong character he possessed, and he found that worthy of respect. So Bucky would say good morning, or good night, to him whenever he saw him. Not only because Bucky was on constant testing by everyone in the compound, constant checking that he was the good man Steve claimed so he always tried to be polite to everyone, but also because Bucky figured what kind of man Rhodes was.  

Rhodes was a decided man, a strong-willed soldier, a caring friend, and he was also more than a little broken. And Bucky could relate to that. Let alone the fact that they shared the same name, Bucky curiously felt, deep in his head, that in another life him and Rhodes were hell of good friends.  

However, in this reality, right now, Bucky found himself worried for the man he barely even had time to know. But it takes one to know one, and maybe he’s projecting but he can’t say he doesn’t understand how Rhodes must feel.  

So he forgets his own reason of why he came to the kitchen at 3AM in the first place and kneels in front of the former colonel. When Rhodes looks back at him Bucky feels a certain kind of relieved. “Are you okay?” Bucky asks, swallowing, his voice steady. He doesn’t need Rhodes to feel like he’s prying on a private moment, the very private moment in which one breaks, but he needs to know.  

Rhodes blinks again and then looks down at his hands, open, resting on his lap. One is filled with deep, red blood.  

Bucky wets his lips before looking around him. He spots the first aid kit in the wall next to the light switch and he stands up and grabs gauze tissues and bandages. He puts them on the counter and then puts water on a plate. When Bucky kneels down again, Rhodes still looks lost in his head. “May I?” he asks, wet tissue on his hand. Rhodes looks at him for a brief second and nods faintly, back to looking at his hands.  

Bucky slowly reaches out for Rhodes' injured hand and carefully starts wiping off the blood, always checking for any indication on Rhodes’ face that he didn’t need the unnecessary touching. Bucky himself knew how bad it could get when you were that gone in your brain and someone tried to touch you.  

He looked at the considerably big piece of glass in Rhodes’ palm and pressed his lips. “I’m going to take it out, okay,” he informs, and Rhodes only grunts once he does, and then exhales heavily when Bucky presses another tissue to the wound. Bucky stands again and grabs the bandage to wrap it around Rhodes’ hand with another tissue so he wouldn’t keep on bleeding.  

“What are you doing here?” Rhodes whispers, after Bucky’s put a tiny clip on his bandage to seal it and has moved on to wipe pieces of glass off his other hand and his knees. Bucky looks up at the question and frowns. “I mean, why aren’t you in your room, sleeping?” he asks, this time looking down, with a more careful tone.  

Bucky smiles bitterly at the floor. “You’ve got your demons, I’ve got mine,” he says, and then drives his eyes up to meet Rhodes. “You’re not alone, Rhodey,” Bucky swears, because he knows, better than most people, what isolation can do. Rhodes nods with a pout, not buying it. “You were trying to walk without the prosthetic?” Bucky asks, not trying to make a big deal out of it. Rhodes’ studies his face, searching for the classic pity-party he thinks Bucky’s going to give him.  

Bucky isn’t. 

“Yeah,” Rhodey answers, with a raspy voice, and then goes back to looking down. “I do it, sometimes, don’t know why,” he explains, and Bucky nods.  

“I used to try to burn the arm,” Bucky shares and Rhodes is back to looking at him. “It was pointless, I couldn’t feel it. But I needed it, don’t know why,” he shrugs. “I guess, sometimes, I hoped, that maybe one day I’d be able to feel it, so that I could feel more, I don’t know, human. Does that make sense?” he asks, and then sits on the floor, wiping away pieces of glass to make room for himself, his back to a counter and his legs next to Rhodes’. 

“It does,” he agrees, without looking at him.  

“Don’t tell Steve about that,” Bucky replies, chuckling.  

“Only if you don’t tell Tony about this,” Rhodes answers.  

They sit next to each other for a long while and it’s not uncomfortable, it’s a much needed silence with a certain warmth. Bucky thinks about the next day, and the next week, and his plans of taking a true tour of New York with Sam on Friday, and movie nights with the team on Thursdays and maybe talking to Rhodes more often now. He sits there in the kitchen and he doesn’t think about his nightmares of becoming a weapon again, or the burden he carries. He sits there and he’s surprisingly calm in the silence Rhodes offers.  

“I think we should go to sleep,” Rhodes says, after a long while. But his voice isn’t pained anymore, he’s only tired. “Can you, uhm, pass me those?” he asks, pointing at the prosthetic legs lying on the floor a few feet away from them. Bucky stands and hands him the prosthetic and then watches as Rhodes slides them onto his legs and straps them up. When he’s about to reach for the counter to prop himself up to stand, Bucky offers his left hand and Rhodes stares at it before grabbing it, his hand closing tightly around Bucky’s metallic one.  

“Maybe if I added a star to these I wouldn’t feel so shitty about them,” Rhodey muses as he stands up, his smile bigger than the last time. Bucky replies to it with one of his own but he shakes his head.  

“You wouldn’t,” he says, honest to god. He’s come to peace with the fact that he’s disabled, yes, but on bad days he hates the arm and all the memories it brings. 

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Rhodes assures quickly, and Bucky believes him so he nods.  

“I know,” he says and smiles. They stand there for a brief moment, and Rhodes looks at him, and smiles with his lips pressed. Bucky knows that’s the better thank you he can give him, so Bucky replies with a nod and blinking slowly. And just when Rhodes is about to leave the room, Bucky tries. “Listen, Rhodes, they can take it,” he says as Rhodes turns around. “The team? Yeah, they can take whatever it is you need to do. As someone who pushed people he cared about away, so that he wouldn’t hurt them, trust me. They can take it, and what you need to do, you need to do,” he tells him, shrugging vaguely. “And I know solitude is healthy sometimes, but, just, every excess is bad, you know? So just, keep that in mind,” he asks, and Rhodes nods, this time more honestly. “Goodnight,” Bucky finishes, with another polite smile.  

Rhodes huffs and smiles, looking at the wall beside him. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promises before vanishing through the corridor.  

Bucky for his part doesn’t leave after a while. The nightmares aren’t as unbearable as they were once; he actually even believes one day they will just stop. They will get tired, of haunting him, of making him feel miserable and beyond repair.  

He thinks, bitterly, that wanting to stop having them makes him a shitty person. That those nightmares, the panic attacks, the pain, he deserves it. It’s the least he deserves.  

He doesn’t tell Steve about that, he doesn’t really tell anyone, that his mistakes are slowly drowning him, that he thinks he deserves to die sometimes, that he wishes he was put back on cryo sleep. 

“Sleep,” he mutters to himself. Sleep, the easy way out, but also, hard to pull off when he was under a warm blanket and a nice bed. Bucky could take around six guys at the same time and successfully kill them without so much of a sweat, but getting himself to sleep? That was the hardest task.  

So he thinks about Steve, about how lost Steve’s been the last couple of months. Or he thinks about Stark, and his broken soul, his mess of life, but Bucky quickly feels guilty there so he doesn’t allow himself thinking about Steve’s former friend much. 

So he thinks about Sam instead, and his teeth gap and his mean jokes and his reassuring stares. Or he thinks about Wanda and how she looks up to the team, especially that guy with the arrows, and Steve, he thinks about the fact that she’s lost her entire family and now relies on their ability to be one and he feels a little sorry for her. He tries not to think about Vision because he still doesn’t understand, and it makes him anxious.  

And he thinks about Rhodes and his need to carry the world on his shoulders, his need to be useful, helpful, his feeling of powerless when he’s unable to be so.  

It’s almost funny, Bucky muses, because if it wasn’t for him, according to what he’s read on files, Stark wouldn’t even be alive today. If it wasn’t for him, none of this would even be possible.  

Bucky hopes Rhodes knows that, and if he doesn’t, he hopes he can be the one to tell him.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this one was short as hell, I know. I'll make up for it with the next one. Wait for it next friday, most likely. Reviews make me write faster ;-)


	3. Times Will Change And I'll Feel Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Right,” Bucky agrees, and then there’s silence again as Rhodey looked back at him with the same embarrassed eyes. “Rhodes, it’s not a big deal. What happened last night doesn’t change anything.”
> 
> And then Rhodey looks down and smiles, and Bucky is the one who is confused now. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he mutters, and Bucky relaxes.
> 
> “Well, I mean, it does change something,” Bucky remembers then. And Rhodey raises his head and looks worried again. “We’re friends now,” he states and Rhodey’s frown turns amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER, as usual, shoutout to [Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou) for being the utter most amazing beta reader ever, I'm sorry I keep asking you to beta for me. 

Rhodey wakes up the next day and walks to the living room to find everyone uncomfortably still. In the center of it, there was Steve, shielding Bucky with his entire body and as Rhodey drove his eyes through the room he found Tony at the other end of the room, in front of them. His throat closed tightly as he walked through the room.

“Tones?” he calls, and Tony blinks and acknowledges his presence. And the look he gives him makes Rhodey feel all tingly inside. He’s Tony’s safe place and he’s glad that they both have each other. “Are you alright?” he asks, and sees Tony’s Adam apple go up as he swallows.

“I—uhm,” Tony stutters as he licks his lips.

“Tony,” Steve speaks this time, and Rhodey snaps his head in a swift turn and he feels like he nearly growls, because Steve backs away from his spot and drives his sight from Tony to Rhodey. “Can we talk?” he offers, looking at the floor and then at Tony, his blue eyes shiny and concerned. Rhodey narrows his eyes but he drops his glare to turn to Tony.

“Are you sure?” Rhodey asks Tony, and makes sure that Steve is listening. “You don’t have to give him anything,” he tells Tony, raising his eyebrows. Rhodey doesn’t know at which point his slight dislike of Steve’s arguments became plain bitterness towards Steve’s whole _self_. It was probably when he found Tony choking in tears with Steve’s bullshit letter rugged inside his hand. It was probably when Tony drunkenly burped and said ‘I fucked up another relationship, Rhodey,’ and cracked the worst bitter laugh Rhodey had heard from him.

It had been Pepper all over again. And the difference between Pepper and Steve was that one of them had Rhodey’s utter respect and even care, while the other was an arrogant blond that the entire world tried to make Rhodey believe was actually flawless, when he was seriously far away from being.

“Nah, I need to do this,” Tony reassures him. “Barnes?” he asks Rhodey, after taking a deep breath.

“We can trust him,” Rhodey states and Tony raises one eyebrow. “Wanda helped,” he explains and Tony looks around, searching for her. “Hey,” Rhodey calls, one hand on Tony’s shoulder. “You scream if you need me, alright?” he instructs and Tony nods, smiling.

“Sure thing, honeybear,” he replies, unshakably. Then he goes to the elevator and holds it for Steve.

“Thanks, Rhodes,” Steve says, carefully as he passes by him.

“Don’t thank me, work it out,” he says, his eyes back to slightly glaring. Rhodey saves the ‘if you hurt him again, I’ll whoop your white ass’ pseudo-shovel talk because it’s not needed, but he does hope he can put Steve in his place again sometime.

Everyone in the room watches them go and everyone releases a collective sigh once they’re gone. Rhodey hates that, both Tony and Steve are unreliable leader figures, but they still have a team that looks up to them both, whatever, he digresses.

“Do you think he will ever be able to work with me?” Bucky asks, walking over to stand next to him, his eyes still looking at the closed doors of elevator. Rhodey turns his head to him and shrugs.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll talk about that at some point. Tony’s also read the entire transcript of the record of your case in court, Bucky,” he tells him, and Bucky turns. “And with Nelson’s past of helping unfairly blamed people—it’s one big plus. I mean, he’s going to believe you didn’t do all of those things. The tricky part is whether he cares about that or not,” he explains and Bucky nods once then leaves his head down.

“Howard was a friend of mine,” Bucky mutters, pressing his lips in a line. Rhodey looks at Sam sitting on the couch next to them before he looks at Bucky again. “Good man.”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that from you and Steve. Pity I never met that Howard,” Rhodey says, bitterly, and Bucky frowns. “I only knew the shitty dad that never paid attention to his genius kid.”

Now Bucky is the one who looks at Sam for some sort of answer, but Sam only shrugs slightly, and goes back to watching TV without the sound on.

“Think I might ever be able to speak to Stark?” Bucky asks when Rhodey starts to walk to the kitchen.

“Eh, maybe not yet. Let Steve fix his shit with Tony first,” he answers. “But don’t worry; as long as I say it’s okay to have you here, Tony is going to agree. You’re safe with me,” he reassures and Bucky huffs a laugh behind him, before Rhodey realizes where he is. He looks down at the floor, the same spot where he crashed last night and he looks at Bucky a second after.

Bucky doesn’t follow Rhodey’s eyes, he just stands and looks at him, letting him know that it’s all good, that he doesn’t feel any differently about him, that Bucky doesn’t, and will never, see Rhodey as less because he saw him at his breaking moment.

Rhodey stares back and holds Bucky’s gaze for a brief second before he looks down and then around, embarrassed. Bucky wants to reach and say it’s okay but he doesn’t think it’ll help.

“Hey, Rhodey, can you pass me some coffee?” it’s Sam who calls. Rhodey slightly startles at the voice for a second and then moves to do as asked.

“Yeah, uhm, sure,” he says, walking around the kitchen and filling a cup, then walks over to Sam and hands it to him. Sam holds the cup along with Rhodey’s hand looks up at him.

“How are you today?” he asks, in that voice of his. And Rhodey smiles despite himself.

“Ask me once Tony’s done talking to Steve,” he jokes, and Sam lets go of his hand with a ‘ha!’ scoffed.

When Rhodey goes back to the kitchen, Bucky’s still in the same spot. He passes by him and goes to wash his hands in the sink.

“How’s the hand?” Bucky asks, in a whisper, as he leans in next to him in the sink. Rhodey slightly turns to see Sam carelessly watching television, this time with the sound on, with Wanda sitting next to him, laughing at her phone.

“Better,” he answers. The cut hadn’t been that deep so it was mostly healed by then. “I took the bandage off because I didn’t want to call anyone’s attention,” he explains.

“Right,” Bucky agrees, and then there’s silence again as Rhodey looked back at him with the same embarrassed eyes. “Rhodes, it’s not a big deal. What happened last night doesn’t change anything.”

And then Rhodey looks down and smiles, and Bucky is the one who is confused now. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he mutters, and Bucky relaxes.

“Well, I mean, it does change something,” Bucky remembers then. And Rhodey raises his head and looks worried again. “We’re friends now,” he states and Rhodey’s frown turns amused.

“We are?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’ve decided,” Bucky finishes, with a proud smile. Rhodey’s amused frown doesn’t change one bit.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” he asks, his face barely moving.

“Yeah, you are,” Sam yells from across the room, still sitting on the couch, with the TV still on.

Both Rhodey and Bucky frown.

* * *

Some three weeks after that they’re back in the world and working smoothly with Fury and the remains of SHIELD again.

Rhodey listens attentively to all of Fury’s instructions and Fury agrees with what Rhodey has to say. This is what balance looks like, and Steve is at ease.

The world is still doubtful and whenever they arrive to a place, they’re not as welcomed as they were once. There are insults shouted at them, but also thanks. It leaves a very sour taste on everyone’s mouth but Rhodey figures they had it coming, and hopes they’ll work it out.

A week after that, they welcome Dr. Andrew Garner to the compound for their now weekly sessions.

Agent Melinda May suggested it to Fury and Fury told them on his last visit that every government organization needed a psychologist inside, and Lord knows they needed it. Sam was the first to stand and agree, before anyone went up and decided that they didn’t need help, like countless times before.

The first one to go inside Dr. Garner’s office, surprisingly, was Tony. And Rhodey almost threw a party that day. Steve followed after, the next day, and Rhodey imagined that that’s what he had looked like when Tony did when he saw Bucky’s face.

After them everyone followed quickly: Wanda, Sam, Fury once, Vision too, then Rhodey, and lastly Bucky. Bucky was the one that took the longest but slowly they all started to be less defensive, less distrusting.

Slowly, they started to become the family they were meant to be when Fury assembled them years ago.

Suddenly, they were cracking jokes when on missions, again. Thursday movie nights weren’t only Sam, Bucky and Wanda anymore, but nearly everyone else.

Bruce came a month after that with one Helen Cho and Rhodey finally saw the med facility being used, like Tony had dreamed it would when he and Pepper built and decorated it.

The doctor had say hi to Rhodey excitedly and said that she was looking forward to working with him, given that they barely even had time to talk in that party Ultron crashed. Rhodey had frowned before Tony explained that she hoped she could help with the prosthetic, Rhodey just told her he liked what she had done with Vision. They pretended not be awkward afterwards.

T’Challa came in unannounced after they met him in Egypt during a mission; apparently T’Challa was there on a diplomatic visit. Bucky was the first one to greet him, followed by Rhodey, and the rest of the team, minus Tony, who was busy back in California’s Stark Industries facility—working with Pepper again—to try and introduce the prosthetic prototype, this one made of plastic, to the creative team of the company, and try to set up a date to release it to the market. Rhodey was very excited about that, but his own prosthetic still needed a final work.

Which is why when T’Challa suggested working with him and some vibranium alloy, Rhodey nearly shouted a ‘yes!’

They worked on it for almost a week and came up with interesting improvements, like a thinner design so it wouldn’t bother Rhodey in the crotch area, and less sparkly, unlike Tony’s original design. But then T’Challa had to leave to be a King, and there’s was no pleading him to stay; Rhodey understood.

Sam, on his end, had greeted T’Challa with a cat joke, and had also said goodbye to him with one.

And during all of this, his friendship with Bucky only grew tighter than he would’ve ever imagined.

After that first night it became sort of a habit, to meet in the kitchen at 3AM. To talk about nothing, or anything. It came off as a bit of a shock, when Rhodey realized it, that during the whole day when he once looked up to his private moment, so he could cry and think and do nothing but feel miserable, he now looked forward to sitting on the kitchen floor with Bucky, eating from the peanut butter jar as Bucky told him ridiculous stories of Steve as a skinny kid.

It was an incredible contrast. Because if Rhodey had stopped seeing Steve as the guy who actively fucked over his best friend and started liking him again, it was because of Bucky, and if Tony had stopped feeling threatened and bad by Barnes’ presence, it was because of Rhodey. After the impromptu meetings in the kitchen ended, Bucky started seeking Rhodey anywhere in the compound, and then teaming up with him in missions.

Rhodey introduces him to his lab shortly after and it escalates from there. Bucky starts off dropping by for some minutes to ask Rhodey if he needs anything, or offer him something, mostly food. Sometimes he comes alone and other times he drags Sam with him.

Then he starts to stick around for a couple of hours instead, curiously looking over Rhodey’s shoulder to see what he’s working on, leaving when Rhodey’s too submerged in his work to pay attention to him. He’d leave a note and a snack and Rhodey would thank him in the morning next day.

After the snacks, Bucky tries giving Rhodey a strawberry milkshake at 10AM, while humming to Keli’s iconic ‘Milkshake’ and Rhodey just drops his work to stare off into the distance.

“This is clearly Sam’s doing,” he mutters, turning on his chair to Bucky, who was handing him a cup of disgustingly sweet milkshake.

“Nope — _my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like it’s better than yours_ ,” Bucky replies, singing.

“Please, stop,” Rhodey pleads, his eyes widening. Bucky cracks a laugh and something flips in Rhodey’s insides; they’ve been doing that lately.

“There you go, try it,” he says, handing the glass over.

“No, I’m not drinking that at this hour, you should’ve asked me, I don’t know, maybe twenty years ago,” Rhode snarks, turning back.

“Yeah, well, I was kind of, asleep? On ice,” Bucky retorts, in the same nature. They’ve been like this for two weeks now, and Rhodey figures this is what Sam meant when he said he’d regret ever befriending Bucky. “Seriously, you’re gonna turn my awesome milkshakes down like that?” Bucky tries again, this time walking over to stand behind the computer screen so Rhodey can see his face as he hands the glass over one more time.

Rhodey raises his hand to slowly push the glass back. “I’m a grown-ass man, Bucky, and I don’t wanna die from a diabetic coma,” he explains, and Bucky frowns.

“You’re diabetic?”

“No, but I will be if I drink that,” he says, going back to his computers. “Wanna get me something? Give me coffee,” Rhodey mutters later, more internally than to Bucky.

“Boring,” Bucky whines, leaving the lab.

That’s when he starts leaving Rhodey coffee twice a day, or bringing it with him when he gets in, or sending it with Sam when Sam goes to check on how his wings are coming.

After that it’s full breakfast, and then Bucky never leaves.

He starts bringing magazines first, trying to catch up on the years of pop culture, and then he finds that unlike other parts in the compound, Rhodey’s lab is actually quiet enough for him to read peacefully. So he starts bringing books and then starts leaving them there and now Rhodey’s lab is his lab but also Bucky’s reading room and there are books all over the floor.

Rhodey doesn’t mind. He actually feels a lot of things he doesn’t want nor need to name, but he’s comfortable with it all.

Sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Rhodey just listens to Bucky catch a breath when he’s read something exciting or sometimes Bucky just hears as Rhodey hums songs while he works.

Bucky starts reading a bunch of classics like Hamlet and the Sherlock Holmes series and tells Rhodey vaguely that he couldn’t afford to read many books when he was a kid. So Rhodey buys him some from his personal selection of favorites. Bucky accepts with an easy smile and says that either way he’s not taking the books out of the lab so it’s not like it’s an actual gift.

It’s all good, until one day Rhodey looks with the corner of his eyes and catches the silver tie book cover and a very disgusted Bucky behind it. “Barnes,” Rhodey calls, turning. Bucky’s eyes don’t leave the pages. “What are you doing?” Rhodey asks, slowly.

“This is disturbing,” he only says, his horrified face growing deeper. “Jesus Christ, woman,” he exhales, his eyes widening.

Rhodey tries to suppress his laugh. “Why are you reading that?”

“Sam says it was his favorite book, and I’m seriously concerning if I should be friends with him,” Bucky explains, flipping through the pages.

“That’s not Sam’s favorite book, he was probably messing with you,” Rhodey tells him, this time grinning. Bucky catches up to what Rhodey says slowly.

“This book didn’t win a Nobel prize for re-shaping society in the 21st century, did it?” Rhodey shakes his head, pressing his lips together and Bucky dramatically lets the book fall to the floor. He sits straight on the couch and says: “I’m going to smack his head.”

“Smack whose head?” Sam asks by the door, sucking on a lollipop. Bucky stands without much prompting and reaches Sam within a second, his hand makes a slick sound when it lightly hits the back of Sam’s head. “Hey! What the hell was that for?!” he yells.

Bucky only but points at the book lying on the floor by the couch.

Sam spits the lollipop out of his mouth in a chuckle. “Oh, you actually read it?” he says, giggling. Bucky raises his hand again and Sam falls back. “Ok, ok, stop. Rhodey, tell him to stop,” Sam says, using his hands to shield himself from Bucky, who only crosses his arms and glares. “Alright,” Sam says, after staring at Bucky for a while. “I didn’t come here for that, I need a favor,” he says, this time turning to Rhodey, his forearms placed on one of the screens, as Sam batted his eyelashes at him.

“What?” Rhodey drags, his eyebrows forming a straight line.

“Is there any way you can have Redwing have an USB port?” he asks, casually.

“All of Redwing’s data can be transferred into any of the computers in the compound, Sam,” Rhodey explains, frowning. Bucky’s back to lying on his couch.

“Yeah but I can’t transfer data _into_ Redwing,” Sam says instead.

“Because that makes it harder for Redwing to be hacked,” Rhodey tries again.

“Ok, I just need it to have an USB port, man,” he almost whines.

“What for?”

“So I can put in an USB drive,” Sam answers in a questioning tone.

Rhodey’s poker-face comes up again. “You’re not downloading the entire soundtrack of Lion King so you can play it on Redwing whenever T’Challa’s teaming up with you on a mission, Sam,” he says, turning back to his paperwork of the last mission.

“What—I mean, that’s not,” he fake-chuckles. Rhodey just drives his eyes to meet Sam’s for a brief second. “How did you know? I thought Bucky was the spy here,” he complains, and Bucky cracks a laugh from behind them.

“I heard you humming the intro song. T’Challa was not amused,” he says, but Sam waves him off.

“Please, he’s always amused. The last time he actually smiled,” he tells them, back to sucking on his lollipop.

Sam had started this task of messing with T’Challa since two months ago. Neither Bucky nor Rhodey knew what it was about, sometimes they just thought Sam had a death wish, sometimes they just found it funny. T’Challa would ignore Sam for the most part, which was almost painful to watch, but then Sam started getting smarter, his jokes more clever. Up until the point T’Challa could only pay attention to Sam.

Rhodey wondered that maybe that was the plan, and they were all back in fourth grade. But he didn’t like messing in other people’s business and if Sam actually liked the King of one of the most advanced nations in the world, well, Rhodey supported him.

So when Sam kept looking at the floor with the utter most silly smile on his face, Rhodey turned his chair to look at Bucky, who had one eyebrow raised and was slowly sitting back on the couch again.

“Sam?” Bucky calls and Sam blinks back to earth.

“So can you?” he asks Rhodey again.

“Is there something you want to tell us?” Rhodey tries instead. Sam looks to the side and pouts.

“Nope,” he lies, shrugging. He taps on Rhodey’s desk and puts the lollipop back inside his mouth, smiles at both of them and leaves, almost in a hurry.

Bucky stands not long after that and sighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it out of him,” he says, patting Rhodey’s shoulder.

“I trust that. What I’m afraid of is whether or not you’re going to injure him,” Rhodey jokes and his heart does not flip when Bucky winks at him before he leaves.

* * *

It takes Bucky about a week to get the confession out of Sam, which actually comes quite easy after Sam’s had enough beers. They get themselves in Rhodey’s bedroom at ungodly hours and Sam’s on the floor pleading to him for USB ports.

“Listen, he’s so pretty like, his smile is so pretty, Rhodey, do you even know?” Sam muses and Rhodey’s barely awake but he’s listening to Bucky laugh by the door and he knows Bucky isn’t drunk because he can’t and Rhodey wonders if Sam didn’t know that or just forgot about it.

“Do you actually think he’s going to like that?” Rhodey says, chuckling too and Sam’s nodding a lot.

“It’s so ridiculous, he won’t have a choice but to,” he explains his plan to them, grin on his face, his eyes a little closed. Bucky turns the lights on as he walks in.

“So, you think he likes you?” Bucky asks, crossing his arms.

Sam’s face changes abruptly. “I don’t know,” he whispers, staring at the floor.

Rhodey glares at Bucky just a little before he shifts his arm to tap Sam’s head. “Alright, we’ll help you,” he says, Sam’s face looks like he just licked a lemon.

“No, don’t take this the wrong way but, I don’t need ‘ _I haven’t had a partner in 20 years_ ’,” Sam says pointing at Rhodey. “And ‘ _the last time I went on a date can tabs hadn’t been invented yet_ ’,” he points at Bucky. “Telling _me_ how to court somebody,” he finishes, burping.

Bucky and Rhodey share a look.

“Ok, you ass, then what do you need?” Bucky asks.

“For Redwing to be my wingman, and have an USB port!” he exclaims, pouting at Rhodey.

“Fine, but if it gets hacked, it’s on you,” Rhodey threatens, and Sam lets himself fall on the carpeted floor.

“You guys think I should start with Hakuna Matata?” he asks, looking at the ceiling.

Bucky rolls his eyes turning back to the corridor as Rhodey throws Sam a pillow.


	4. There Is A Story Here, I Feel It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he got to the main living room he found a war veteran, a former soviet assassin and an actual King of an actual nation staring with serious concentration at a screen where Mario was racing his friends.
> 
> And seriously, even Lila is past Mario Kart era.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, FINALLY A TINY BIT OF PLOT. Anyways, chapter warning for adult men being idiots over videogames, this episode is pure crack I hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> again, never ending shoutouts to [Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou)

“Colonel Rhodes, Mr. Wilson requests you to be upstairs,” Friday’s voice sounds in his lab.

“What it is, F?” Rhodey asks, saving his notes for the new stick of the suit.

“He says, and I quote, “just tell him to get his ass here”,” Friday speaks and Rhodey scoffs a laugh.

“Is he alone?” he wonders, grabbing his leather jacket and putting it on.

“Mr. Barnes and King T’Challa are with him,” Friday informs Rhodey as he frowns, he didn’t know T’Challa was here already.

When he got to the main living room he found a war veteran, a former soviet assassin and an actual King of an actual nation staring with serious concentration at a screen where Mario was racing his friends.

And seriously, even Lila is past Mario Kart era.

“You know, if Zemo or evil aliens could see this, I think we wouldn’t strike them as intimidating as we think we are,” he muses, in a hopeless sigh. They’re embarrassing but they also make Rhodey’s life quite better.

“I’m sure I can figure a way to change that, Colonel,” T’Challa says, pressing on the buttons of his controller. Rhodey slightly kicks Bucky’s knee so he’d move over so Rhodey can sit. When he does he looks at the screen, T’Challa’s running first with Princess Peach, Bucky’s running second with Toad and Sam is falling 8th with Yoshi.

“The tiniest dinosaur,” Sam hisses under his breath, shooting a red mushroom at Wario. “He’s a fucking disgrace to his kind,” he curses.

“Relax, it’s just a game,” Bucky says, his tongue pressing his lower lip for the entire lap.

“Shut up, you chose a fucking plant,” Sam spits, passing Wario and Princess Daisy.

“That is not a plant. It is a fungus,” T’Challa mutters and Sam turns his head slowly to glare at him, as T’Challa crosses the finish line and smiles widely in victory. When he turns his face to them his smile fades into a smug grin, directed at Sam. Bucky rolls his eyes at them and looks over at Rhodey, who shrugs in return.

“You know, sometimes, I hate you,” Sam says, his eyes narrowing. Bucky thinks that’s Sam’s way of saying he likes someone.

“Mhmm, except that you do not,” T’Challa retorts. Bucky tries not to chuckle, Rhodey tries not to find the exchange extremely cute.

It is settled then, when Rhodey looks at T’Challa’s brown eyes when he’s unaware, staring at Sam’s grin, he likes Sam back and Rhodey looks at Bucky knowingly and Bucky nods slowly, closing his eyes, getting it too.

Sam can’t even hold T’Challa’s gaze for long so he looks down at his controller and drives the corner of his mouth up, misses when T’Challa presses his lips in a thin line and smiles fondly at him.

 _‘Idiots,’_ Bucky thinks, because it’s easier to see things on other people than on yourself.

“Ok, if I’m going to play this children thing not even my niece plays anymore, I’ll need a drink,” Rhodey says, standing up, walking to the kitchen.

“I’ll go with you,” Bucky rushes, because he has no desire of being inconspicuous, he almost even winks at Sam as he leaves. “He’s so ridiculously in love I want to both weep and then barf,” he whispers behind the fridge’s door when Rhodey opens it to get the beers out.

“I can’t believe he dragged us into a double date,” Rhodey mutters instead as he grabs a six pack and then shuts the door close.

“What?” Bucky frowns and Rhodey turns.

“Not like that,” he’s quick to clarify. “For support, obviously,” _‘though it’s good to know we both do not want to go on a date, nope, never’_ Rhodey thinks as he opens four beers. He passes Bucky two and doesn’t see Bucky staying behind, looking down at the floor as Rhodey walks by him and out of the kitchen.

When he reaches Sam and T’Challa in the living room again, Sam’s standing in front of the TV and the King of Wakanda is most certainly not ogling Sam’s backside. Rhodey only grins a little before he clears his throat and T’Challa nearly jumps in the couch.

“I brought beer,” he says, handing one to T’Challa, who barely looks at him before he puts his whole attention on the green bottle. “What are you doing?” Rhodey asks Sam, after taking a sip.

“We’re going to play something for grown-ups now, because you’ll have a stroke if you find out how lethal your highness over there is at playing a children’s videogame,” Sam explains, half turning, and narrowing his eyes at T’Challa at last.

T’Challa drinks from his bottle and makes a sound as it leaves his lips. Rhodey looks at Sam from the corner of his eyes and it’s like Sam’s physically fighting the need to roll his eyes and bite down his lower lip, all at the same time. “I am lethal at everything,” T’Challa says, like it’s a completely serious statement.

Sam stares blankly at him for a second before he turns to Rhodey. “The worst part is that he doesn’t even recognize how wrong that sounds,” he tells Rhodey, a pitch too high.

“Maybe I do,” T’Challa speaks again, and Rhodey catches the moment Sam’s brain goes completely fried.

“Oh yeah, _I’m_ the one having a stroke,” Rhodey chuckles as he takes the disc Sam was holding. “Mortal Kombat?” he asks and Sam blinks back to earth and shrugs in response. “We’re gonna have to take turns,” Rhodey says.

“I call dibs,” Bucky announces, just getting back.

“What happened to you?” Rhodey wonders, turning. Bucky smiles a faint smile.

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. Rhodey arches one eyebrow and T’Challa shifts in his place.

“I want to go with Barnes,” T’Challa says, looking up at him. Bucky shrugs and walks over to sit on the couch.

“Sure, fighting you in a way that’s not going to physically injure my real body? Why not,” he jokes and T’Challa laughs as he pats Bucky in the shoulder, grabbing his controller. Rhodey puts the disk in the console and Sam sits on the armrest next to T’Challa.

Rhodey then walks over and sits on the floor by Bucky’s legs, stretching his legs so it’s not as uncomfortable. “You alright?” he whispers, while the game’s intro starts. Bucky looks down at him and nods quietly. “Listen, if you need to leave, it’s okay,” he says, quietly again.

“Really? You’re okay with being all alone with the two lovebirds over there?” he asks in a whisper as Sam is explaining T’Challa what each button does and tips him on who are the better characters.

Rhodey stares off to the distance, and then looks back at Bucky. “Right. Please, don’t leave me,” he pleads, all in fake drama. Bucky smiles down at him before Sam shouts.

“Seriously? Kintaro? Can you be a little more obvious?” Sam whines, but T’Challa only ignores him and waits for Bucky to choose.

He went for Johnny Cage like the last time. And got his ass kicked by T’Challa as usual.

After that they played Call of Duty but then T’Challa complained about the violence and so they changed to Little Big Planet, then some Disney one that Rhodey secretly loves.

Bucky tried and failed not to see this whole game night as a double date, right after Rhodey jokingly mentioned it in the kitchen. There was a time, when Bucky wasn’t broken, when he was a master at double dates. He’d drag Steve to countless of those, and some of other friends. Half of Bucky’s dates in the 40’s had been double dates, Bucky _loved_ double dates.

This one? This one he was trying not to love. Because it wasn’t one.

But Sam was all over the sky when T’Challa carefully listened to him explain how each videogame worked, and all of them were aware that T’Challa was a genius so he probably didn’t even need the exposition, but he was so ridiculously into Sam, Bucky wanted to laugh out loud at the whole image of them.

And then there was Rhodey. Rhodey, who gives him quiet thanks when Bucky hands him a new beer and cracks the best laugh Bucky’s ever heard when he’s winning. Rhodey, who isn’t into him. Rhodey, who Bucky isn't into either.

Rhodey, who’s been with him nearly every day for the past five months. Rhodey, who Bucky doesn’t need to bullshit around. Rhodey, who is headstrong and trustworthy and real. Rhodey, who is his very own, very first _not-friends-with-me-because-he’s-friends-with-Steve_ friend. Rhodey, who inexplicably understands him. Rhodey, who listens but doesn’t push.

They’ve downed about four six-packs by the time Sam starts saying he’s done and T’Challa starts testing his patience. Sam glares and burps and then takes his tongue out and T’Challa only laughs harder.

Bucky’s been watching them smiling, Rhodey’s been staring at him unaware from the other side of the room.

“Let’s play Uno,” Bucky hears himself suggest. Sam’s eyes widen, Rhodey’s downing his last beer and shaking his head at the same time.

“Why do you want another war, Barnes?” he asks and Sam nods next to him. T’Challa is not following, but he’s smiling.

“C’mon it’s just a game,” he says.

“It’s never just a game. Not with Uno,” Sam speaks this time, his tongue rolling easy in his mouth, he lets his head fall on Rhodey’s shoulder once he’s done talking and Bucky realizes he’s sleepy.

T’Challa seems to caught up on that too because he rolls the sleeve of his shirt to look at his Rolex, and his eyebrows rise when he sees the time.

Rhodey yawns with Sam’s head on his shoulder and asks T’Challa from the floor: “What time is it?”

“It’s almost five am,” the King replies, standing up and grabbing the empty bottles on the living room table and dumping them in the kitchen trashcan. “I guess, I’ll stay in the compound then,” he states, stretching. Bucky puts his feet where T’Challa used to sit and Sam moves his head off Rhodey’s shoulder to stand.

“Really? You’re finally gracing Tony with your stay?” Rhodey asks, laying back against one of the couches.

T’Challa shrugs from his spot. “He’s told me he even had a room set up for me,” he tells them.

Sam nods at him. “Oh, yeah, the chambers,” he says, in faked solemn voice.

“Don’t call it that,” T’Challa says quietly, but his smile gives him up.

“Shut up. C’mon, I’ll show you, your highness,” Sam says, pointing T’Challa with his open arm to follow him.

T’Challa looks back at Bucky and Rhodey in the room. “Thanks for tonight, friends,” he says. Bucky winks at him and Rhodey nods.

By the time T’Challa’s in the elevator he can’t see the thumbs up Bucky’s giving Sam.

Rhodey yawns again and says he’s leaving, too. There’s something twisting in Bucky’s gut that suddenly doesn’t want the night to end, but there’s not much he can say.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, it’s good enough. Rhodey pats his knee as a response and Bucky lies there, watching him go, doing nothing. But when he’s under the covers in his bed that night, by the time he starts to drift off, he wonders how warm Rhodey’s arm must be.

* * *

Rhodey gets exactly the eight recommend hours of sleep that day but he’s still lazily tired. He’s been yawning since he got up and not even Tony’s oh-so-holy Colombian coffee has even helped.

He’s sipping on his second cup in the last hour when Tony shows up, like he very much owns the place. “Well, look at that, he is finally alone,” he announces as he reaches Rhodey. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks, a tone of genuine curiosity but mostly just mocking.

“What?” Rhodey frowns, his lips still attached to the mug.

“Your boy, you know, Winter is coming, all that,” he explains, grabbing a chair and rolling it next to Rhodey.

Rhodey only rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s with _your_ boyfriend. You know? All-American-Boy, and all that,” Rhodey says, in the same nature.

“Ok, don’t use my own jokes against me. That’s just weak,” he complains, but then they both smile. “Seriously, though, I need your help,” Tony says later, a bit more serious.

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Rhodey jokes again but Tony just sets his eyebrows straight. “Alright, what is it?” Rhodey focuses.

“When are you asking Barnes out?” Tony asks again, his face still the same.

Rhodey laughs as he frowns. “What?” he says, in a chuckle.

“C’mon, I need to know. Let’s skip the denial bit, I need Lang to eat dust,” Tony explains, as if it all makes sense. Rhodey’s smile quickly leaves his face.

“What?” he asks again, this time more serious.

“You’re not supposed to know,” Tony says. If they had a dollar for each time they’ve said that to one another, Rhodey would be rich and Tony would be richer. “Ok, there’s a betting pool—,”

“You bet on me asking Bucky out?!” Rhodey interrupts, a pitch too high.

Tony opens his hand protectively as he shakes his head. “No. Don’t be ridiculous,” he’s quick to explain. Rhodey takes a breath. “We bet on _when_ you’d do it,” he finishes, later, smug grin on his face.

“You people are unbelievable; I don’t even like Barnes that way!” Rhodey shouts, turning back on his chair to face Tony. When he does, his friend is not looking back at him.

“I…got coffee,” Rhodey hears behind him, and finds Bucky standing by the door, with a cup of coffee in his hand. Rhodey wants to slam his own and Tony’s heads against the table.

“Bucky,” he drags and Bucky waves him off.

“It’s okay, I can come back later,” he says, already turning. But Rhodey stands and walks closer over to him.

“No, no. Stay, Tony was actually just leaving,” Rhodey lies, turning to Tony.

“Really, I was?” Tony asks, fake innocent tone.

“Yeah, yeah, you are,” Rhodey nods, faking a smile.

“You know this is actually my place, you can’t just throw me out,” Tony says as he stands, joking. “Steve chose his friend, once,” he tells Rhodey when he reaches him.

“Well, I’m choosing not to smack the back of the head of mine, so, we’ve all made hard decisions,” Rhodey jokes back and Tony shrugs.

“Good luck, Barnes,” Tony mutters as he walks between them and out of the lab. Bucky watches him go with a frown on his face.

“Listen—,”

“It’s okay, Rhodey, seriously—,”

“No, apparently, there’s a bet,” Rhodey says in discomfort.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” Bucky replies, shrugging.

“And— wait, you knew?” Rhodey interrupts himself to ask. Bucky shrugs again, looking to the side and then back to Rhodey again. “What? When?”

“This morning. Steve, Sam and I were jogging and, seriously, they’re not half as transparent as you’d expect,” he explains, sitting in the chair Tony was sitting on before.

“Wait, what did they say?” Rhodey asks, sitting in his own, in front of him.

“Sam bet on December, Steve on my birthday next year,” he says, taking Rhodey’s Rubik’s Cube, that was lying on the table, and trying to match some colors from the last time he took it.

“Wait, but what did they bet on?” Rhodey asks, checking if they know the same.

“Us, dating,” Bucky says, attention on the plastic cube.

“Yeah, but who asked who out?” Rhodey tries again, gathering more information.

“That’s not part of the pool,” Bucky clarifies, looking at Rhodey briefly.

“Interesting,” Rhodey mutters, sitting back on his chair, looking at nothing, thinking.

Bucky looks from the corner of his eyes and catches Rhodey’s eyes lighting up.

“Ok, you have a face…” Bucky says, and Rhodey blinks and smiles at him.

“Yes, everyone does,” he retorts and Bucky doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore.

“No, I mean, you have a face, like you’re plotting something,” Bucky drags and Rhodey’s smile turns plain devilish.

“We’re gonna screw them over,” Rhodey tells Bucky and he arches an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“They need to learn that they can’t just do that. Mess with our lives, that’s just wrong. So, we’re gonna trick them,” he explains but Bucky fails to follow. “We need to stage a date. Get a third agent, someone who’s not in the betting pool yet— they’re going to have our specific time for it, and they’re going to win, take all of the guy’s money and we’ll still be friends and not act weird around each other,” he finishes, with a smile.

“We’re gonna pretend to be dating?” Bucky asks, frowning.

“No, because that’s not the bet. The bet is just one date. Which we won’t even have to go, we’ll just make sure they believe we did. Then we can just say it didn’t work and we’re just staying friends,” Rhodey says.

“But we will already have their money…” Bucky follows, and Rhodey nods once in reply. “Alright, that sounds good,” Bucky agrees. “We just need to get the third agent,” he says.

Almost a second later, T’Challa’s knocking on Rhodey’s doorframe. It’s a good thing the Black Panther doesn’t scare easily because the smiles Rhodey and Bucky give him are borderline evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews are fuel to a writer's engine <3


	5. Searched For Something Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is a bad idea,” T’Challa says, solemnly. “But I accept, because the matters of your romantic life should only be your own,” he agrees in the same breath. Rhodey and Bucky exchange a look of confusion but content.
> 
> “Alright, let’s revise the steps, then,” Rhodey says and T’Challa nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO CHAPTER WARNINGS. As usual, shoutout to [Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou) for being the greatest ever ever, I'm sorry I keep stressing you over this silly story.

“This is a bad idea,” T’Challa says, solemnly. “But I accept, because the matters of your romantic life should only be your own,” he agrees in the same breath. Rhodey and Bucky exchange a look of confusion but content.

“Alright, let’s revise the steps, then,” Rhodey says and T’Challa nods.

“I am to find out the specifications of the bet, so nothing goes wrong. Then, I need to know who bet the soonest, and we’ll set the date for before that,” he repeats for them, in all seriousness.

“Right; the sooner the better,” Bucky mutters.

“Also, no one can know. It’s already weird that you’re doing this in the first place,” Rhodey comments and T’Challa gives him a look. “What? It is,” he states, shrugging.

“Why? Because I can’t help my friends in this harmless ridiculous thing?” T’Challa asks, arching an eyebrow.

“So you do admit it’s ridiculous,” Bucky asks.

“You all are,” T’Challa simply says. “Just rejoice in the fact that I _am_ helping you,” he finishes.

Bucky and Rhodey shrug and nod in unison.

“Now, Colonel, we have something due,” T’Challa mentions and Rhodey recalls.

“Oh, right, the prototype,” he exclaims. T’Challa smiles a fond smile.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Bucky mutters and makes up to leave. Rhodey catches his forearm to stop him for a second.

“We’re cool, right? About earlier?” Rhodey asks him, locking his brown eyes on Bucky’s blue.

Bucky’s lips go up to one side and he blinks slowly at Rhodey. “Yeah, of course,” he says, quietly. Rhodey moves his eyes across Bucky’s face but he moves his arm from Rhodey’s grip and smiles a wider smile, before he leaves almost running.

Rhodey walks slowly back and T’Challa’s already standing before the worktable, rolling up his sleeves. When Rhodey looks at the face of the King, he’s giving Rhodey a weird look.

“What?” Rhodey says, almost challenging.

“Nothing,” T’Challa replies, tasking his tongue and looking down at the digital board.

“Did you like your room? How did it end last night?” Rhodey tries and T’Challa looks up again, smiling.

“James,” he drags. “There are things you do not wish to answer, so I believe there are questions you shouldn’t ask,” he says, simply. Rhodey holds his gaze and makes a smug pout.

“Alright,” he agrees, before they start working.

* * *

 

Bucky’s punching and punching and using every fiber of his body to not make a big deal out of the fact that Rhodey explicitly stated that he didn’t like him that way. He thinks about bad guys and world ends and the fact that people are starting to like the team again. He thinks about the fact that his part in Steve’s expo at the Smithsonian was put up again because he was proved to still be a war hero, with even another room dedicated to tell his story. He hasn’t gone there yet, not since he got his memories back after the Washington mess. He thinks about building up the courage to go there soon.

He thinks if Rhodey might want to come.

“Woah!” Sam yells when the bag hits the wall at the end across the room. Bucky only startles in his presence.

“Hey,” he pants, grabbing a new punching bag.

“I thought Steve was the only one into this unhealthy coping mechanism,” Sam comments, sitting by the gym’s own fighting ring.

“What are you talking about? I’m just training,” Bucky replies, going at the new bag.

“Sure, we don’t want your years to catch up to you, you super-human-soldier,” Sam retorts. “What is troubling you, my young padawan?” he asks, and Bucky huffs.

“Nothing,” Bucky replies, clearly missing the chance for making jokes. Sam stands and walks over to Bucky, one long eyebrow raised. Bucky throws one punch and feels Sam’s eyes burning in the back of his skull. “Ok, why did you guys make that bet?” he bursts out.

“Seriously, that’s it? I thought you said it didn’t bother you,” Sam explains, trying to hide his smile.

“Well, that’s because I thought you guys were being idiots but it’s not just you two, right? Sam, that’s fucking invasive,” Bucky complains, throwing another punch to the bag.

“Ok, but if it makes you feel better, we are, as a matter of fact, being idiots,” Sam explains, trying to be funny, and Bucky doesn’t even fight the urge to glare at him. “C’mon, it’s just a stupid bet that most likely Vision is going to win,” he comments.

“He bet on something?” Bucyk asked, frowning as he wrapped his hair tighter in the ponytail.

“Yeah, Wanda convinced him it was a human tradition. You must be rooting for him, he bet on never,” Sam tells him, slightly kicking one of the broken bags lying on the floor so it would roll on it.

Bucky stares at the sand dripping out of the bag thinking over Rhodey’s words and how he doesn’t care, doesn’t need to care, and doesn’t want to care.

Sam looks at him attentive and then looks down again. “That’s not what’s wrong, is it?” he asks.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, Sam,” Bucky answers, turning to throw a weak punch at the bag hanging in front of him.

“Figures,” he mutters. “Look, it’s supposed to be confusing. Especially for people like you and Rhodey,” Sam says, clearer this time.

Bucky turns to him, his brow narrowed. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“People who haven’t been in a place for relationships since forever ago,” Sam says, quickly. “Rhodey’s last partner was when he was still a Captain. Carol, drop dead gorgeous,” he adds.

“Why are we talking about this?” Bucky suddenly wonders, going back to his bag.

“—And you, Bucky, listen,” Sam ignores him, and calls him until Bucky is looking at him again. “You deserve to, alright? It’s been more than a year since you’ve come back to being yourself and after all that work that you’ve done with Dr. Garner, by yourself. Bucky, you deserve that, you deserve that at least,” he says, but Bucky’s only frowning.

“What is ‘that’? What are you _talking_ about?”

“Love. Being loved, giving love back,” Sam says, like it’s that simple. Bucky wants to throw up.

“Sam…” he whines, shaking his head. “It’s not like that, Rhodey’s not—” _‘interested’, ‘into you’, ‘doesn’t like you that way’_ his brain supplies. Bucky swallows. “He’s my friend. Like the one person that’s—“

“Yours?” Sam interrupts raising one eyebrow. “Like, the first friend you made outside of Steve’s circle?” And Bucky’s urge to smack Sam’s head cools down.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “And we get each other, and we don’t need to bullshit around each other. Sam, Rhodey’s so real. Like he calls people on their shit, I’m sure he only likes Steve because he’s my friend,” Bucky says like it’s a serious statement. “I like our friendship. I’m proud of it,” he says quietly. He doesn’t tell Sam that being with Rhodey in his lab, listening to him tap on his keyboard, or nagging at him about his taste in clothing —fucking polo shirts—, is one of the reasons he leaves his bed in the really bad mornings.

He doesn’t tell Sam that he’s the only one who’s seen Rhodey break. He doesn’t tell Sam how much he cares about Rhodey.

But he feels very, very weird in his chest.

“I get it,” Sam says, bringing him back, his smile faint.

“You do?” Bucky asks.

“Do you remember Riley?” Sam asks, then.

“Your partner?” Bucky answers and Sam nods.

Sam looks down at the floor before he tells him: “His codename was Redwing,” Sam tells him, his lips in a thin line, his eyes shiny. Bucky smiles back at him.

“That’s nice,” he says, quietly.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, and his voice sounds raspy before he swallows. “So now, every day, he’s with me,” he says. “So I get what it’s like to have something you feel it’s only yours, not Steve’s or mine. I get it. It’s bullshit, though, because we both now Rhodey likes me more than he likes you, but,” Sam jokes and then shrugs. “I get it; you don’t want that to be spoiled.”

“Rhodey’s not mine,” Bucky corrects, but they both get what he means.

“Obviously, he is his. Your relationship, romantic or otherwise, it’s both of yours. Everyone gets it, Barnes,” Sam says, lightly, rolling his eyes but with a smile on his face. “This bet won’t ruin it, Bucky. Stop freaking out,” he says, and Bucky knows that to be true.

He smiles inside because he remembers Sam has no idea.

“How did it finish with T’Challa, last night?” he asks then.

Sam chuckles and pushes the punching bag. “Good,” he says at last. Bucky raises his eyebrows, smiling smugly. “Not like that,” Sam is quick to clear up. “It’s good, he’s—,” Sam cuts himself to chuckle again. “It’s been a while since I felt like this, man,” he tells Bucky, and Bucky raises his chin a little up, understanding. “You know, it’s scary. You don’t just comfortably slide into love, right? You fall, it’s groundbreaking—I don’t know,” Sam moves one shoulder and Bucky walks over to him.

“It’s not supposed to make sense,” he jokes, putting one hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“No, it’s not,” Sam says, because he knows better. Bucky can joke all he wants, they’ll see who ends up laughing.

* * *

 

Rhodey and Bucky are laughing by the time T’Challa’s done telling them the story of how everyone reacted to him saying he wanted to be a part of the bet, two days later. Apparently, there was silence, staring, and Scott even choked on water.

“I am not going to deny it’s unsettling that they think I’m always serious, but, I will let them have it,” he speaks and Rhodey catches a breath.

“They’ll get over it. I was the serious one, once, too,” he says, the new prosthetics easily attached to his legs as he rocks one back and forth in his chair.

“Ok, so, this Friday? Is that right?” Bucky speaks and T’Challa nods.

“Yes. The soonest time was Tony’s. He said this Saturday night,” T’Challa tells them. Bucky frowns, Rhodey makes a poker face.

“Why so specific?” Bucky asks, turning his chair to Rhodey.

“My mom’s birthday,” Rhodey says, and then shrugs as if he doesn’t know Tony’s reasoning.

“Ok, so, Rhodey and I will leave the compound. You’ll collect the goods, and we’ll meet in this ice cream place nearby. That plan’s okay?” Bucky asks them as he hands T’Challa the ice cream place address in a paper. T’Challa takes it and puts it in the back of his jeans.

“You’re going to try to sneak out and I am to expose you before you do, so everyone knows,” T’Challa repeats once more.

“Right, because they know we know so we’re not just going to let them have it, we have to make it realistic,” Rhodey explains. T’Challa sighs and gives them a last look. “Thanks, your highness,” he says, trying not to smile smugly at him.

T’Challa, however, does roll his eyes. “Whatever, good luck,” he says, waving them goodbye and leaving for his diplomatic thingy.

* * *

 

Three days after that Bucky’s sliding a black, v-necked t-shirt and looking at himself in the mirror for a while. _‘Your first date in more than half a century and it’s not even a real one’_ he thinks to himself as he sighs. Whatever. Rhodey’s having Stark’s computer thing record the whole team’s reaction to T’Challa winning and it’s gonna make up for this.

It’s also going make him stop thinking about Rhodey in a romantic aspect, most likely.

Probably.

Maybe.

“Shit,” Bucky curses in a whisper, putting on his watch and looking at the time. When he leaves his room, Rhodey’s just by the end of the corridor, waiting for him.

He’s wearing a leather jacket and a deep red silk shirt underneath, with dark gray pants and black shoes, the prosthetic neatly attached to his legs. Bucky does not stop breathing at the sight of Rhodey. He does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more left. I know this one is short but I'll make up for it in the next one. Thanks to everyone who leaves a comment :)


	6. Here You Are, You See My Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey looks at him, tilting his head. “Are you sure about this?” he asks. 
> 
> “Only if you are,” Bucky replies, like it’s nothing. 
> 
> Maybe it isn’t, Rhodey thinks, but maybe it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't put this on friday, like I said I would. SORRY, but anyways: NO CHAPTER WARNINGS. As usual, shoutout to [Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou) for being the greatest ever ever, I'm sorry I sent you 26 pages of Windows Word Docs & like didn't say nothing about it.

Everyone is gathered for the customary Friday movie night when Bucky and Rhodey start “sneaking” out, “trying” to be unnoticed. When they reach the elevator to find T’Challa coming out of it, they deliver the most impeccable performance and everything follows smoothly according to the plan.

There is excitement for the first couple of seconds but then Tony realizes that T’Challa is the one who won the bet, and by the time Scott is noticing he starts whining about being broke and the fact that T’Challa has more money than all of them combined and it was just bullshit to pay him.

Steve is quick to stand up to say that a bet was a bet and is the first one to reach T’Challa with the money, while Rhodey and Bucky decided that it was a good time to leave as any.

But then Sam pointed out that T’Challa’s time set was extremely convenient and Rhodey and Bucky tried not to look at each other, knowingly.

Tony had stared down at T’Challa and told him he knew something, to which T’Challa shrugged and said: “I spent two days with Rhodey; I might have given him a couple of advices.”

And then Tony, naturally, feels offended. “Oh, so he tells you to date Barnes and you do it, but I do it and you bitch at me and throw me out of your lab?” Tony asks, looking at Rhodey standing by the elevator.

“You’re not the King of a nation, with also a good judgment, Tony. If all, when you tell me to do something, it’s usually a bad idea,” Rhodey jokes, but Tony just narrows his eyes.

“Go on, have your stupid date,” he tells him before going back to sit on the couch.

Sam is having none of it, but he lets them do as said and watches as T’Challa even waves them off, and then starts to collect his money.

It’s exactly twenty minutes when T’Challa goes to grab his jacket and starts to say his goodbyes.

“You’re leaving already?” Sam asks, standing up way too fast to seem casual. Steve looks at his beer bottle and smiles, Tony looks at him and tries not to chuckle. Peter and Scott are fighting over the popcorn, unaware.

T’Challa nods. “Just for a couple of months. It’s been a good week, but I cannot take many vacations,” he explains and Sam scratches the back of his head.

“A couple of months,” he repeats, chuckling bitterly.

“I have duties, Sam,” T’Challa says, looking for Sam’s eyes.

Sam drags his head up and nods. “Yeah, no, absolutely, I know. I’d hate to see Wakanda be left unattended, it’s already a lot that you’ve managed to stay here for so long,” he says and T’Challa nods at him. “It’s just—,” Sam moves one shoulder up, in a little shrug. “Well, I’m gonna miss you,” he says, his heart on his sleeve.

“I am sure you’ll find more cat videos to mock me with when I return,” T’Challa assures him and Sam’s smile is back.

* * *

 

“I lived the birth of ice cream being sold in grocery stores, you know?” Bucky comments when they sit on their table at the ice-cream place. Bucky holds a cone with four different flavors and three syrups; Rhodey just went for vanilla with choco-chips.

He licks his ice cream and raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah, I was more into milkshakes, as you know, but Steve loves the shit out of ice cream. We even had it in the war, on the good days, of course,” he says, licking his own cone before the melted ice cream reached his flesh hand.

“You’re kidding,” Rhodey frowns. Bucky shakes his head slowly. “You had ice cream in World War II?”

“Please,” Bucky says, smugly. “It was an edible morale symbol during the war. Listen, each branch of the military tried to outdo the others in serving ice cream to its troops,” he tells Rhodey.

“I heard that rumor. That was true?” Rhodey asks, a pitch too high. Bucky nods with both eyes closed. “How did we even win,” he mutters later, and Bucky opens his eyes then.

“Shut up,” he jokes. “It was the best ice cream ever. Far better than this,” he says, licking his cone once more.

“Well, it’s because most ice cream places use frozen dairy products instead of regular ice cream,” Rhodey explains. “You see, ice cream requires specific levels of milk fat content, nonfat milk solids content, total solids in each gallon of ice cream, and total weight in each gallon of ice cream. Frozen dairy products ain’t got any of that,” he finishes, biting down his cone.

Bucky gives him a dead face.

“Interesting,” he mutters, making a pout.

Rhodey narrows his eyes at him. “Is it?” he asks.

“ _No_ , it’s lame as hell that you know so much about ice cream. This is why you’re single,” Bucky says, in a serious tone, but then he cracks a smile and bites on his cone.

“Ha, ha,” Rhodey huffs at him, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

They stay quiet for a couple of seconds, just eating their ice cream, waiting for T’Challa to come. Outside the window, the sky is getting purple as it’s starting to get dark. Rhodey looks around the place and it’s not crowded but it’s not empty.

There are a couple of girls in the back, speaking in sign language to each other and they clearly look like they’re on a date. Next to them on a different table, there’s a guy reading a book with a French title and trying not to cry.

In front of his and Bucky’s table there’s a woman in a suit, drinking coffee and writing things down, and in front of her is a girl chewing gum and playing with her Nintendo.

The cashier has a line of four people because he’s talking to everybody and the old lady getting her order in front of him is laughing at all he says, using her walking stick to support herself when she shakes in laughter.

Rhodey looks down at his thighs under the table and swallows, like that he realizes it’s the first time he’s out walking with the prosthetics as a regular human being and not doing superhero stuff.

“Are you alright?” Bucky asks him then, grounding him. Rhodey licks his lips and nods.

“Just, self-aware,” he says, looking down again. Bucky follows Rhodey’s eyes and presses his lips in a downward curve.

Bucky sighs and moves his feet under the table to rub next to Rhodey’s ankle, to get his attention. When Rhodey looks up at him again, Bucky gives him a weak wink. “Don’t worry about that. People stare, then they move on and that’s it,” he says, looking down at his metal hand.

Rhodey smiles faintly. “You stopped covering it,” he mentions and Bucky nods.

“Dr. Garner says that I should wear it with pride. Because it’s given me the chance to do something good, and it wasn’t meant for that,” Bucky tells him and Rhodey gives him a wide smile this time. “We don’t need to hide,” he says and Rhodey nods, taking a deep breath.

“Alright,” he agrees.

“To change to a less sad but even more tragic topic,” Bucky speaks again, a different tone in his voice now. “Your love life,” he asks, one eyebrow up.

Rhodey gives him a weird look. “What?” he says.

“We’ve been talking for seven months almost every day and we haven’t ever talked about that,” Bucky says. Rhodey shrugs, helplessly.

“That’s because my love life isn’t something a man reaching his 50s would be proud of sharing,” Rhodey retorts and Bucky shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like me, the nearly-a-hundred-years-old man who has had an adult relationship like _once_ in his life, can judge you, Rhodes,” Bucky says.

“You’ve only had one relationship in all of your life?” Rhodey asks instead and Bucky sighs.

“I was busy being KGB’s secret weapon, if you recall,” Bucky says, glaring and Rhodey chuckles, opening a hand defensively.

“Alright, alright. What do you wanna know?” Rhodey asks.

“Sam mentioned a Carol,” Bucky says, casually and Rhodey smiles down at the table.

Carol Danvers, his soul mate. Carol Danvers, his first and last love. Carol Danvers, the one that got away.

“Why did Sam mention her?” Rhodey asks, instead, a frown and a smile on his face.

Bucky moves his head to his shoulder and then back straight. “You know, messing with me,” he answers, vaguely. But Rhodey gets it. “But it made me realize that, that we’ve never talked about why you’re single,” he says. “I mean, we all know why I am,” he adds, rolling his eyes casually.

Rhodey chuckles. “Well, it’s not that easy,” he says.

“Finding people with shared life experiences, I know. Steve says the same, but that didn’t stop him from drooling after your boy,” Bucky shares and Rhodey groans.

“Can we _not_ talk about Tony and Steve’s Shakespearean love story?” he says, faking a whine.

“We’re gonna be the best men of their wedding so you better brace yourself,” Bucky jokes and Rhodey groans again.

His smile fades a little. “Steve really did a number on Tony, you know,” he mutters, trying not to sound bitter.

Bucky looks down at his hands and sighs. “Yeah, they did a number on each other,” he agrees. “Steve’s trying to make up for it. Trust me,” Bucky says, steady.

Rhodey blinks at him and smiles again. “That’s all I do, Bucky,” he says, honestly like only he can. Bucky smiles a wide smile slowly and Rhodey takes a mental picture of it. “But that’s not what I meant. Actually, finding people that have gone through similar stuff that I have isn’t all that hard,” Rhodey comments, trying to not let his eyes linger on Bucky’s for too long. “It’s this life— this job, it’s not ideal for relationships. Nobody should have to be up for this,” he says, and he thinks about Pepper and her desperate calls and her red-rimmed eyes and how tight she would squeeze Rhodey’s hand whenever they were sick worried about Tony, he remembers the looks of utter helplessness she’d give Rhodey because the only thing she ever did was fall in love with his superhero best friend.

And Rhodey thinks about his mother, who had even less of a choice in loving him. He thinks about her mother’s never ending tears when he told his family he was joining the military, a lifetime ago. And the twenty-three missed calls she’d left on his phone during the Stark Expo attack years after. And the messages from his sister about how they had to get their mother sleeping pills after the most recent accident in Berlin.

And then he thinks about Clint’s family, who he hasn’t met, and Scott’s little girl, who he hasn’t met either, and Lila and all the lives that hang by them and how it’s unfair they’re constantly putting the people they love through pain and worry.

“Is that why it didn’t work with this Carol lady?” Bucky asks, bringing him back again.

Rhodey shakes his head once. “No, no. Carol and I just,” he shrugs. “Wanted different things, I guess. We’re okay though, she’s one of my best friends, dating this private investigator called Jessica, she’s cute,” Rhodey says and Bucky raises his eyebrows and nods once.

“Oh, that’s great, then,” Bucky says, falling back on his spot.

Rhodey was about to ask Bucky about his one relationship but the door of the ice cream shop opened to show the King of Wakanda walking in, in a silver suit, and spotting them immediately.

“What took you so long?” Rhodey asks instead, when T’Challa reaches their table.

“Scott Lang is a sore loser,” T’Challa says, taking off his coat and folding it neatly around his right arm. “This was unnecessary but much fun, if I do admit,” he adds, trying to chuckle.

He’s putting the cash on the table when he’s suddenly called. “T’Challa?” it’s Sam’s voice.

Rhodey pushes the money off of table to Bucky’s lap in a swift motion as Sam approaches them with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks T’Challa.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Bucky asks him instead, a little loud.

Sam and T’Challa both turn to him and Rhodey swallows.

“Well, everybody was down because we all lost the bet so we decided to get fresh ice cream for movie night, and this is the closest ice cream place,” Sam explains, crossing his arms. “Now, what are you doing in Rhodey and Bucky’s date?” he inquires, turning to T’Challa and raising one eyebrow again.

T’Challa closes his mouth and inhales.

“He was here to check the prosthetic before he left,” Rhodey jumps in, moving his legs out of under the table to show Sam his moving feet.

“I smell bullshit,” Sam says, only glancing once at Rhodey.

“What does that mean?” T’Challa asks, crossing his arms, mimicking Sam’s pose.

There’s a staring contest that lasts for two full minutes.

Sam narrows his eyes. “Scam!” he yells, suddenly. T’Challa startles for a brief second and Rhodey moves his feet back under the table. “You two are not on a date, this is all a lie,” he figures out, pointing at Rhodey and Bucky

Bucky shakes his head and sighs. “First you want me to date Rhodey and now you don’t?” he asks, putting his empty hands back on top of the table and putting them together.

“It’s not realistic that four days ago you were in complete denial and now all of the sudden you’re ready to go on a date,” Sam theorizes, and Rhodey tries not to break.

Luckily for them, Bucky is a master spy who can successfully lie through his teeth like no biggie and also in six different languages. “Rhodey asked me because T’Challa gave him the courage to and it clicked a light, Wilson,” he explains, Rhodey takes a breath.

Abruptly Sam puts his hands on the table and lowers his face to stay inches away from Bucky’s. He stares him down, frown getting deeper. “Bull-shit,” Sam whispers again, slowly.

“Ok, this is ridiculous. We don’t have to prove anything to you,” Rhodey says, wrinkling his nose in annoyance.

“It’s our money, so you do,” Sam refutes. “I want it back,” he says again, turning to T’Challa.

T’Challa stares at his hand and backs away with the upper part of his body.

“Sam, we _are_ on a date,” Bucky tries again.

“Why is T’Challa here?” Sam asks again.

“He was saying goodbye to us,” Rhodey sighs, rolling his eyes.

“You said goodbye to him when you left the compound,” he deflects, looking at Rhodey.

His eyes linger and Rhodey gives up, tasking his tongue.

“You don’t have proof,” he gives him and Sam raises his chin.

“You little shits,” Sam curses, a smug grin on his face.

“You find a way to prove your theory and T’Challa will give you people your money back. But you won’t, because this is a date, Wilson,” Rhodey dares, and Sam nods slowly.

“Fine, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, uncrossing his arms. “Oh, and, you’ve been gone for some— thirty minutes, so you two better be back to the compound later. Real dates don’t last forty minutes,” Sam says, after looking at his watch.

“They do if they’re bad,” Bucky muses.

“Yeah, well, this one won’t be,” Sam retorts, giving them a fake smile.

 _‘Game on,’_ Rhodey thinks as he watches Sam go to the line, getting his ice cream and then waving them off as he leaves.

“I will try to make him believe it,” T’Challa says, making up to leave.

“He won’t,” Rhodey says, unbothered. “I hope we see you soon,” Rhodey says before T’Challa smiles at them, and goes follow after Sam.

“We should’ve just told him,” Bucky mutters after they’re gone.

“And admit to Sam he was right? No way,” Rhodey says. “Besides, if we do, they’ll just up and make the bet again,” he explains and Bucky sighs.

“This is not going to turn out well,” he says, like a whisper. “But I’m in,” he finishes, smiling at Rhodey.

* * *

 

“He did not do that,” Bucky says as he gets out of the elevator, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. 

Rhodey raises his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah, he did. I would’ve laughed but I was pissed at the moment,” Rhodey says. 

“Because of the peeing?” Bucky tries to mock but Rhodey rolls his eyes at him. 

“He was shooting expensive champagne bottles above all of his guests,” Rhodey says, one pitch too high. “We had the government on our asses and I was taking all the fire,” he tells Bucky, going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of juice. “Want some?” he offers. Bucky shrugs a yes.

“And that's when you took the suit?” Bucky asks, Rhodey is pouring juice into their glasses and chuckles as he shakes his head. 

“Tony wanted me to have it. You can’t just actually take an Iron Man suit unless he wants you to,” Rhodey explains and Bucky nods. “He thought he was dying; the little shit wouldn’t tell me,” he says, handing over Bucky the glass of juice. 

Bucky takes a long sip. “Well, that definitely beats me having to look for Steve in every dark alley of Brooklyn ever,” Bucky jokes and Rhodey smiles. 

“Look at that,” comes Sam's voice and Rhodey holds the cup tightly as Bucky yelps in surprise. 

“Wilson, what the fuck?” Bucky yells as they see Sam turning on a chair in the living room, the light of the lamp above his head, his hands entwined. 

Sam smiles a creepy smile. “You're back four hours later, I'm impressed by your conviction,” he says, slowly. 

Rhodey sighs. “Again with that?” he asks, rolling his eyes. 

“How did it go?” Sam asks, ignoring Rhodey’s whine. “Oh, let me guess. You're going to say it was good but it didn’t work so you’re just staying friends? Is that the plan?” Sam asks, shifting on his chair. 

“It went pretty well, actually,” Rhodey cuts him, his smile defining. 

“Yeah, actually, I was hoping we could do it again, sometime,” Bucky says, as he turns to Rhodey. Rhodey looks at him startled for a brief second before Bucky smiles in a sign and Rhodey gets it. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Rhodey says, nodding with his head too much. 

Sam scoffs and stands. “Well, I'm glad you both feel that way, because your mom called,” Sam says, pointing at Rhodey at the last bit. 

Rhodey drops the proud stance and turns to Sam. Bucky tries not to sigh, annoyed. 

“What?” Rhodey asks quietly, setting the glass on the counter, and starting to walk slowly towards Sam. Sam moves one shoulder in a vague shrug and Rhodey glares. 

“Yup, while you were gone,” Sam clarifies. 

“What did you tell her, Sam?” Rhodey asks quietly, again. 

“The truth, that you were on a date,” Sam says, simply, as he stuffs his hands into his pajama pants’ pockets. “Unless, of course, that _isn’t_ the truth,” he added, with a smug grin and this time Rhodey did roll his eyes and turned to look at Bucky. 

“Seriously?” Bucky spoke then, walking over to them. “You need to drop it, Sam,” he warns him. 

“You drop it,” Sam shoots instead. “You just said you wanted to go out again. I figured, what better reason than to go with Rhodey to his mom’s birthday party,” he tells Bucky and Rhodey groans. 

“Go out. On a date. Not the whole ‘meet the family’ deal, Sam. Bucky and I have only gone on one date,” Rhodey says, moving closer to Sam as his voice rises. 

“But is it? One date, I mean,” Sam muses. “You’ve been together nearly every day for the past seven months, I mean, you’re far from first date basis, aren’t you?” he asks them, his eyes narrowing. 

Bucky is shaking his head soundlessly behind Rhodey. Rhodey bites his lower lip. 

As much as it wasn’t a real date, Rhodey knows he and Bucky are past the ‘get to know each other’ phase, and maybe that’s what makes him anxious when his eyes linger on Bucky for longer than normal. 

“So,” Sam speaks, when they both stay quiet for too long. “I mean, when I made the guess your mom almost cried and everything. She said that that would be the best gift ever,” he tells Rhodey as he smiles smugly. Then he starts moving around as he starts to leave. “Or you could just admit that this was all a lie, give us our money back and I will personally call Roberta and tell her I’m an ass,” he suggests by the elevator door, a hand on his chest. 

Rhodey turns to glare at him and Sam only smiles and waves them as he takes off. 

As soon as the door closes, Rhodey sits on the armrest of the couch and drops his head to his hands. “Dammit,” he whispers into his palms. 

Bucky sighs as he takes off his jacket. “Who knew he was so fierce about a stupid bet,” he mutters, looking at the closed elevator doors. Rhodey raises his head back up and bites his lower lip mercilessly. 

“Jesus, he told my mom,” Rhodey mutters as he realizes, dropping his head back to his hands, a headache coming. 

Six years had passed since the last time he brought someone to his mom’s house. And damn if the following family reunion hadn’t nearly driven Rhodey insane because they kept asking him about his love life and nagging at him for still not being married yet. 

Now he was going to have to look into his mother’s eyes and tell her that he wasn’t dating anyone and that Sam’s a fucking idiot, on her birthday. 

“Well, this was fun while it lasted. I’m calling T’Challa tomorrow to give them their damn money back,” Bucky says, tiredly as he drops on the other couch. 

“No,” Rhodey says, not looking at him. “I can’t— Bucky, my mom’s going to be pissed and,” Rhodey groans, he can already see the never ending lecture. Bucky is adjusting himself on his seat to look at him better. “We have to do this,” he finishes, looking at him. 

“Damn, I don’t know who is more competitive, you or him—,”

“That’s not, I— listen, if I don’t bring someone with me after what Sam told her…I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Rhodey says, shaking his head helplessly as he pictures the horror. 

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend with your family?” Bucky asks, looking at the ceiling. 

Rhodey looks at the super soldier lying on the couch, his head over his arms like a pillow. It’s ridiculous, and Rhodey hates Sam. 

“You’re right— _ah_ ,” Rhodey groans again. “I can’t ask you to do that,” he says, putting his head on his palms again. 

“No, I’m not saying I wouldn’t do it,” Bucky says, moving on his seat and standing up while Rhodey covers his face. “It’s just, you know, your choice,” he says, in front of Rhodey. 

Rhodey uncovers his face and gives him a wary look. “You would help me with this?” he asks, unsure. 

Bucky shrugs, with his hands on his jean pockets. “I mean, it’s just one dinner, it’s not like it’s life threatening,” he says, chuckling. 

Rhodey stands, his face not changing. “You haven’t met my family,” he says seriously, but Bucky chuckles again. 

“I’m sure I can handle them,” Bucky reassures again and this time Rhodey does smile but only briefly. “But, you, you don’t seem sure, Rhodey,” he repeats, and Rhodey nods. 

“It’s just—, it’s been a while,” he says, his lips in a thin line and Bucky nods.

“I figured, but it’s okay, the last time I did the ‘meet the family’ thing was,” Bucky says, counting five fingers. “Never,” he finishes and cracks a laugh. 

Rhodey frowns at him. “You’ve never done that?” he asks. 

“Remember, only one adult relationship, and her household wasn’t something she’d want anyone to see,” Bucky replies, making a face at the last bit. 

Rhodey looks at him, tilting his head. “Are you sure about this?” he asks. 

“Only if you are,” Bucky replies, like it’s nothing. 

Maybe it isn’t, Rhodey thinks, but maybe it is. 

* * *

 

“Does this look good?” Bucky asks Steve the following morning. 

Rhodey had said they’d take one of the Quinjets to Philly after he was done sending a report about the last mission to Fury so Bucky has more than some time to get ready. 

And really, Bucky’s trying to not make a big deal out of this dinner meeting with his non-boyfriend because yes, it’s all fake. But he’s never done this and Rhodey’s counting on him and he’s freaking out a little. 

Steve is lying on his bed, one arm under his head. “Very classy,” Steve says and he’s smiling like nothing is bad in the world ever. 

“What?” Bucky asks, giving him a dead face. 

“I just, I don’t know, I didn’t think I’d see this again,” he says, tenderly and Bucky tries to swallow without being noticed. 

“What?” Bucky asks again, fixing his deep blue button-up shirt.

“You, meeting the family of someone you’re dating, after all you’ve been through, ready to be happy,” Steve says, shifting in his chair and standing up. Bucky watches him move with a frowned face until Steve reaches him and puts his hands on both of Bucky’s shoulders. “I’m so glad,” Steve finishes.

Bucky chuckles nervously. “Yeah, okay, let’s not get there,” he says.  “Rhodey said he wanted my help to get his family off his back and that’s what I’m doing,” he explains, turning, out of Steve’s reach, and grabbing a comb.

“Well, yeah, but, it _is_ a big deal—,”

“Steve,” Bucky calls, his face still. Steve closes his mouth quickly. “It’s not. Okay? It’s not a big deal,” he says and then turns to comb his hair.

“Alright, but I’m still happy for you,” he says as he starts to leave. “You deserve someone like Rhodey,” he adds before closing the door.

* * *

 

Bucky’s staring at the deep dark sky from the window of the Quinjet when Rhodey clears his throat from the pilot seat. He startles at Rhodey’s noise and then watches as the former airmen sets the plane on auto-pilot.

“Listen,” Rhodey says, putting his hands together. “They don’t know,” he confesses and Bucky’s eyes go widely open. “No, not that. They know I like guys too, no,” Rhodey is quick to clarify, in a light chuckle. “I mean the accident. They don’t know it’s permanent,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I haven’t found a way to tell them. Especially my mom,” he adds quietly.

Bucky stretches and reaches for Rhodey’s hand. At the slight touch, Bucky sees Rhodey’s shoulders tense up so he smiles, to ease him. “It’s alright,” Bucky says and Rhodey blinks at him. “You’re fine now, so they will be too,” he says, only once moving his thumb to rub the back of Rhodey’s hand.

Rhodey watches the gesture carefully and then gives Bucky’s hand a tiny smile. “Yeah,” he admits, and then drives his watery eyes to Bucky’s. “I’m fine now,” he says, shifting his hand so Bucky’s palm lies on his, and then gives it a light bump as if they’re high five-ing horizontally.

Bucky chuckles and bites his lower lip as a reflex. Rhodey notices, for the first time, how pink Bucky’s lips are.

“Colonel, we have reached your set destination,” Friday speaks and Rhodey swallows.

Bucky huffs, his smile still intact as he sinks back on his chair and puts the seatbelt on. Rhodey turns on the pilot chair.

“Alright, F, I haven’t landed a plane in a while so, let me have this,” he asks, rubbing his hands before grabbing the yoke.

They land easily in a field some feet away from Rhodey’s family’s country house and only when Bucky’s getting out he starts to realize what he’s doing. He’s about to meet a bunch of strangers, who may be wary around him because he’s an outsider.

Bucky revises his people skills and swallows as Rhodey tightly holds his gift and hands him the bottle of wine.

“You good?” Rhodey asks, his hand on the door’s handle. Bucky swallows again and nods. Rhodey chuckles. “What happened to ‘I can handle them’?” he jokes and Bucky gives him a dead stare but there’s a small smile on his lips. “I promise they won’t eat you,” he says, before pushing the door open.

When Rhodey opened the door there was shriek that made Rhodey stop on his track and Bucky bump against his back.

“It’s Jimmy!” yells the same voice. Bucky looks over Rhodey’s shoulder and watches as a woman launches herself on Rhodey’s arms. “We didn’t think you’d come, you ass,” she says, hugging him.

Rhodey pinches her hip and gives her a mean look. “When have I ever missed my ma’s birthday?” he asks her.

“It’s because we haven’t seen you in ages, bro,” comes another voice from behind her and Rhodey claps his hand with the guy and then they’re hugging. The knot inside Bucky’s throat is loosening when suddenly the girl’s eyes land on him.

“Oh my god, Sam wasn’t messin’ around, Bob,” she mutters and drags the attention of the other guy on Rhodey to Bucky. Three pair of eyes on him and Bucky honestly feels nervous for the first time in a while.

“Guys this is, uhm, James,” Rhodey says, in an asking tone, Bucky wets his lips and offers his hand. “This is my cousin, Coretta,” he says pointing at the woman, who takes his hand and shakes it firmly. “And her husband, Robert,” he adds, introducing the other guy.

“You call us Cora and Bob, don’t listen to him,” the woman says with a smile.

“James, huh?” is the guy who speaks as he shakes Bucky’s hand.

Bucky looks at Rhodey for help, and Rhodey shrugs. “Uhm, yeah, James, that’s my name, yes,” Bucky repeats and Rhodey’s fighting the urge to laugh or facepalm in second-hand embarrassment.

“That’s what happens when you spend so much time with Tony Stark,” Bob jokes, looking at Rhodey. Bucky feels dizzy but Cora walks over a little closer.

“We call him Jimmy, don’t worry,” she says, moving her eyebrows at Rhodey at the mention of their nickname.

Bucky wants to tell her they can all call him Bucky but the words fail him.

“Who’s at the—,” it’s another woman’s voice. She has gray hair and Rhodey’s eyes, a flowered dress and red lips.

“Hey, ma’,” Rhodey speaks, and Bucky had figured as much. He walked over to her and they embraced in a hug that would’ve melted the entire North Pole, because of how warm it was.

“Look at you, so skinny,” she says, rolling her hands over Rhodey’s back. “You always talk about Anthony starving himself to death but you ain’t taking your own advice, boy,” she says, slapping Rhodey’s arm lightly.

“I don’t even have ten minutes here, mom,” Rhodey complains.

“Well, if you want me to stop worrying, you want me to stop being your mother,” she says, scolding, before she turns to greet her other guest. Bucky freezes again when Rhodey’s mom’s mouth falls slightly open at the sight of him.

“Ma’,” Rhodey says, looking over at Bucky and nodding at him. “This is—,”

“Bucky Barnes,” she cuts him, smiling at last. “I told you Samuel knows what to lie to me about,” she said to Cora, as she walked over to offer Bucky her hand.

“I knew I’d seen that face somewhere, shit,” Bob breathed, next to Rhodey.

“We were all hooked to the news with your— the whole mess,” Cora speaks, again, her eyes wide too.

Bucky looks at each of them and all of them and he feels like he’s dripping sweat.

“We know you’re innocent,” Rhodey’s mom speaks again, and he realizes he’s still holding her hand.

“Right, sorry, Mrs. Rhodes,” he apologizes as he drops her hand.

“Don’t apologize, and call me Roberta,” she offers again. “We know Rhodey wouldn’t bring anything but a good man to this house, so don’t worry,” she assures and Bucky nods.

He looks down at the bottle on his hands and extends it to her. “Happy birthday,” he says, gaining his polite smile.

“Aw,” she says, taking the bottle and looking at it. “Thanks, Bucky— is it okay, if I call you Bucky? Sam says you don’t like being called James,” she asks and Bucky shrugs.

“I’m okay either way, but I do prefer Bucky,” he replies, his nervousness almost gone.

“Why ‘Bucky’, though?” Bob asks, with a frown.

“Uhm, my middle name,” Bucky replies vaguely.

“Your middle name is ‘Bucky’?” Cora asks this time, wrinkling her nose.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head once. “Buchanan, James Buchanan Barnes,” he says, and remembers all the times he said his name in front of a mirror when he was back to being himself what felt like centuries ago.

“Wow,” Bob exhales. “Well, if we’re gonna talk about fancy ass white names— this one? Rupert,” he says, pointing at Rhodey.

“What?” Bucky asks, laughing quietly.

“It would’ve killed you if you hadn’t told him, wouldn’t it?” Rhodey mutters to Bob, looking to the ceiling, annoyed.

“Oh, wait ‘til I show him the pics,” Cora speaks this time and Bucky doesn’t feel doubtful anymore, he’s excited.

“Please, show me the pictures,” he says, and Rhodey stops looking the ceiling to glare at him. Bucky only grins at him in reply.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you,” Cora says, grabbing Bucky’s wrists. Bob’s already gone to the living room.

“I’ll be there in a sec. Be strong!” Rhodey shouts at him while his cousin drags a smiling Bucky to meet the rest of his family.

Roberta watches as they drag Bucky out of their sight with an amused smile on her face. “He seems nice, very handsome,” she comments, passing by Rhodey and walking into the kitchen.

Rhodey follows behind her and stays behind while she puts the bottle of wine inside the fridge. When she turns, Rhodey’s unwrapped his gift to her and watches as his mother holds a breath when she sees the old radio his father brought for them for the first time, perfectly fixed and intact as if it’d never seen bad days.

“Oh, dear,” she whispers, her eyes watering. She opens her arms to grab it and then rubbed her hands slowly, tenderly, over it. “I told Joshua you had taken it,” she says, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Rhodey sighs. “Really, you knew?” he asks, rubbing her shoulder.

“You can’t take things out of my house without me noticing, Jimmy,” she says, her eyes still attached to the radio. She sniffs and then looks at him and hugs him with her free arm. Her face is in his chest as she sniffs again and Rhodey puts his chin on her head. “Your father bought this because I told him we couldn’t afford to go into a dance club, so anytime your grandfather would let me go with him to take a walk in the neighborhood he’d bring this—,”

“With him and make you dance with him, right there on the streets— I know, you’ve told me a thousand times, ma’,” he says, unwrapping his arms from around her and giving her a tender look. “Happy birthday,” he says, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Thanks, dear,” she says, quietly.

Then there’s a loud laugh coming from the living room that makes them both turn towards the noise.

Roberta puts the radio on the kitchen table, next to the flowers. “It seems like you’ve brought the attraction of the night,” she says, and then moves to counter to put appetizers on a tray.

Rhodey huffs a laugh and looks at the floor. “I just hope he’s alive by the end of the night,” he says, smiling.

Roberta gives her son a look and then turns again to her food. “But I like this one,” she says and Rhodey looks up.

“You do?” he asks. “Because all I can think about is Steph giving me shit for ‘my obsession with crackers’,” Rhodey jokes, making quotations.

“Oh, he doesn’t get to say that after that he brought that Susan woman last thanksgiving,” she says, opening her eyes widely at the memory. Rhodey shut his eyes closed, laughing and Roberta grabbed the tray with one hand and walked over to Rhodey. “But Bucky? It looks like he makes you happy,” she says, when she reaches him by the doorframe. “I appreciate that,” she adds, putting a hand on his cheek.

Rhodey smiles down at his mother and tries not to suffocate when his entire stomach does a flip. ‘Bucky makes you happy, Bucky makes you happy’ his brain is giving him in bright red lights.

But he ignores his thoughts and follows his mother out of the kitchen.

“Uncle Rhodey?” comes a quiet voice from his left.

“Lila!” Rhodey turns, a wide smile on his face, as Lila throws herself at Rhodey from the stairs. He grunts as he grabs her and feels as the prosthetic struggles to hold both of their weights. “Jesus Christ, you’re so big,” he says, still hugging her tightly.

She loosens her grip and Rhodey puts her on the floor. “That’s because you haven’t seen me in ten months, you dummie,” she says, her hands on her hips. “Grandma measured me last week and I’m already taller than you when you were my age,” she says.

“Are you now?” he says and she gives him a proud grin. “How are you, kiddo?” he asks.

“Not a kiddo. I’m a young lady now,” she says and then leans over to Rhodey. “Grandma got me trainers, they’re all purple,” she whispers and Rhodey raises his eyebrows.

“That’s awesome,” he says, proudly. “So the treatment is going well?” he asks and she nods, looking at her hands.

“Doctor told grandma she’s glad that we’re doing this before I reach puberty, she says transition is harder when you’re all grown up,” she says, giving a vague shrug.

“Well, if the doctor says so,” Rhodey supplies and she nods at him. He gives her a smile and then remembers something. “Hey, I brought someone,” he whispers.

“Sam?” she asks, excited.

Rhodey huffs a laugh and looks at the wall. “No, not this time,” he says, going back to look at his niece. “A date, Lila,” he adds.

Lila’s mouth goes wide and Rhodey smiles at her. His family keeps giving him all these looks and it keeps getting harder to remember he’s lying to them.

He grabs Lila’s hand and walks with her into the living room to find Bucky sitting on the couch with Cora and Taylor on each side, giving him all the embarrassing stories. Rhodey would feel bad but there goes his stomach again doing that weird thing when he sees Bucky’s eyebrows go up at the pictures and hears Bucky’s laugh. “Hey,” he calls, Lila squeezing her hand in his.

“I’m never going to forget tonight,” Bucky tells him from the couch.

“I know,” Rhodey sighs, but then his face changes. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet,” Rhodey says, moving his eyes down to his side so Bucky would follow.

“Oh, are you Lila?” Bucky asks, excusing himself out of the couch and up to stand in front Lila. She nods quietly and doesn’t let go of Rhodey’s hand. “Your uncle talks so much about you, about how proud he is of you,” Bucky says, kneeling in front of her. “I’m Bucky,” he offers his hand to her and she takes it, politely. “He says you’re a very brave girl,” Bucky adds, looking up to Rhodey and then back to Lila.

“Well, I am a scout,” she agrees, proudly. Rhodey chuckles at her.

“Really? My best friend was a scout,” Bucky shares.

“What about you?” Lila asks.

“Oh, no, I’m too undisciplined,” Bucky jokes, shaking his head.

“Then how can you be Uncle Rhodey’s boyfriend? He’s very disciplined,” she asks, dropping a note by the end.

Bucky looks up at Rhodey for a brief moment before he replies: “Opposites attract,” and then shrugs.

After that everything followed naturally. There came the expected ‘where did you meet’ and Rhodey looked at Bucky waiting for some corny, fake story but he just went for the simple, actually true, ‘friends of friends’, which made the room ask Rhodey about Tony and then Sam, who he had brought to his home before.

Rhodey watched Bucky being completely marveled by his mother’s food, especially her famous pork ribs, and smiled quietly. Over the table he could feel his mother’s eyes on him, tenderly.

His Uncle Joshua gave the birthday speech as usual and this time he wasn’t slightly drunk, his mother thanked him and then they all planned Lila’s twelve birthday, Bucky even suggested a bubble machine idea that Lila was really into and then Cora got up with Roberta and they started cleaning up the table.

“Who wants cake?” Cora asks and there are cheers followed.

They sang happy birthday to Roberta and then everybody started to scatter in the room. Rhodey’s cousin Steph came over to him after he’d been talking to Bucky for a while and dropped the expected “He’s a cool guy, still a mayo, though,” which Rhodey only chuckled at as he shook his head. 

Everybody was trying to get some comment out of everything from Bucky and not once did he looked overwhelmed by the constant attention, not even when Lila dragged him to the floor to play with her in her tablet some dressing game.

Rhodey was by the door frame listening to everyone and anyone talk and sipping on his beer casually. He’d been smiling non-stop since like two hours ago and it made him feel bad for not coming more often to see his family. He glanced around and held the memory, deep in his brain, of his tiny happy family, with Bucky, so he could remember this on the bad days.

His mother appears on his side a moment after, with another tray in her hand with more food and she stares at him. “You okay?” she asks.

Rhodey nods and tries not to think about the huge amount of lying he’s doing.

His mom is still locking her brown eyes on Rhodey’s when Lila comes running, Bucky’s wrist on her hand.

“Can I show Bucky my room, ma’?” she asks Roberta, who rolls her hand over Lila’s braided hair.

“Sure, dear,” she says and then smiles at Bucky.

“You’re not coming?” Bucky asks Rhodey when Lila starts dragging him again.

“Yes, in a second,” his mother answers for him and Rhodey turns to look at her.

They watch them go upstairs and then Roberta calls Cora with her hand so she can take the tray and give the food. Then she puts her hand on Rhodey’s shoulder and drives him out of the living room to the tiny corridor in front of the stairs.

If Rhodey said he wasn’t nervous he’d by lying, once more.

“Now, are you alright, dear?” she asks again and Rhodey chuckles, because he’s happy, and it feels so weird that everybody thinks something’s wrong. “How are the legs feeling; you still have to wear those?” she adds.

Rhodey looks at his feet and swallows. He doesn’t want to ruin tonight with tears and bad news, maybe next month. “Yeah, it’s— uhm, it’s just a precaution so I don’t do more damage myself, uhm—,”

“You know you can’t lie to me, son,” she reminds him and Rhodey knows better than to look at her.

“They don’t know, ma’,” he says, and bites on his tongue for doing this again. “There is no 100% certainty about anything and I just don’t want you to worry,” he explains, this time looking into his mother’s eyes.

She puts her hand on his cheek and Rhodey tilts his head into it. “I’m your mother, Jimmy. I’m always going to worry,” she says instead, and he knows, but he still has to try to give his mother less stress, any way he can.

“But I’m fine, mom, I promise,” he says, and this time he’s not lying. “We got ourselves a psychologist working on the compound and he’s helping all of us deal with our individual problems,” he says, grabbing her hand in his.

“What about Bucky?” she asks and Rhodey frowns.

“…uhm, yeah, he’s getting helped, too,” he says, vaguely.

“That’s good, but no, I mean, what about him? How do you feel about Bucky?” she asks, after huffing a laugh.

Rhodey thinks about the last seven months all at once and it leaves him dizzy. He thinks about Bucky’s tender, careful hands when he helped him that first night, when they barely knew each other. He thinks about Bucky’s laugh, and his thoughts, and his deep stares, and his stories. He thinks about Bucky’s strength, of character, of spirit. He thinks about his loyalty, how much he cares. He thinks about his good and broken soul. He thinks about his bright blue eyes, about his long, loose hair. He thinks about his arm, his burden, his demons.

Then he thinks about them, about the late nights staying up talking about their idiotic best friends, he thinks about Bucky’s stories of 40’s Brooklyn and he thinks about the stories he told Bucky about 80’s Philly. He thinks about Bucky’s milkshakes and breakfasts and coffees, he thinks about them fighting in sync on missions.

There’s no way he can put into words how he feels about Bucky, he can’t. So he looks at his mom and presses his lips in a thin line and nods and shakes his head and shrugs and doesn’t say anything.

“Alright,” it’s all his mother says, because mothers have that superpower, he guesses, of understanding something before their children do. She steps on her tiptoes and kisses Rhodey in the forehead. “Now go see your white boy,” she jokes later, and Rhodey gives her a poker face.

“You too?” he says before she shrugs and then giggles, disappearing to the kitchen.

Rhodey goes upstairs and goes open Lila’s door to find it closed. “Lila?” he calls through it.

“A minute,” she yells and Rhodey frowns again. There’s a noise of some things being knocked down and then Lila’s turning the handle.

She opens the door with a smile and a comb in her hand. “What are you doing?” Rhodey inquires, arching one eyebrow.

Lila sighs and finishes opening the door for Rhodey so he could come inside. When he does, he finds Bucky sitting on Lila’s chair in front of her mirror, one small braid on the left side of his head and one flower crown.

“Well, you have to admit I look nice,” Bucky says, opening his hands. “Did you know that braids were really important for warriors ages ago? Oh, Lila, tell him what you told me,” he asks her, turning.

“Thor wears braids,” she says, nodding.

“I know, Lila. I’ve met him,” Rhodey reminds her and she sticks her tongue out at him, and then rushes back to combing Bucky’s hair.

“So, do I look like Thor yet?” Bucky asks, arms wide open, his head still.

Rhodey crosses his arms and acts like he’s thinking it. “Eh, _hardly_ ,” he states and Bucky’s the one who sticks his tongue out now. Rhodey tries very hard not to find that endearing.

“Oh, also, this room is awesome as heck,” Bucky comments, aware of Lila’s presence while saying adult words. “Lila said you helped her set it up,” he says, wondered.

The entire room was decorated in different shades of purple. The purple bed to one side and white woodened the desk and closet to the other. A heart shaped light attached to the ceiling and deep purple curtains.

The desk was full of pictures of Lila growing up and Lila with her family and friends in school. A brand new Barbie doll house that looked untouched and lots of scout stickers on the closet door.

And when the lights were turned off, fluorescent blue and pink cats were painted in the walls and a big moon and stars on the ceiling would glow in the dark.

Bucky wished he was a kid just so he could have a room like this.

“Yeah, Pepper helped me get some ideas,” Rhodey says.

“If Steve sees that artwork, his mind will be blown,” Bucky tells him and Rhodey raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah, I still remember the time Tony showed him digital drawing programs. He spent the entire week making doodles of all of us in the Tower,” Rhodey shares, widening his eyes.

“There you go,” Lila announces as she’s finished. “Don’t wrap your hair in a ponytail again, you look better without it,” she complains, wrinkling her nose.

Bucky turns on the chair and gives her hand a squeeze. “Well, I needed to be presentable, Lila,” he explains.

“In that case, don’t lose the flower crown, those are very pretty and presentable,” she says, smiling.

“Okay,” Bucky complies.

“Lila? Your Uncle Joshua is leaving!” her mother yells from down the stairs. Lila tosses the comb to her bed and runs past Rhodey.

Bucky gives himself a look on the mirror again and smiles.

“Shit aside, you do look nice,” Rhodey says, before getting out of the room.

Bucky smiles down and then follows after Rhodey, not taking the flower crown off.

When he gets downstairs, Roberta gives him a look. “Lila’s work?” Bucky only nods, smile on his face.

He stands there and says goodbye to everyone as they start to leave, all a pleasure to have met them and Cora even gives him a hug.

“I hope we see you on Lila’s birthday next month,” she says, squeezing his bicep.

Bucky swallows and then tries to give her an honest smile, but he’s sure it comes off as terrified. Cora doesn’t mind, though, because she’s already hugging Rhodey goodbye.

It’s not until everybody’s left that Rhodey actually glances down at his watch and exhales. “Wow, it’s really late,” he says, his mother’s just finished locking the door and Bucky’s looking at his jacket hanging on the coat rack.

“Oh, yes, Lila, come help your Uncle Rhodey set up his room!” Roberta calls Lila again and they hear the water tap being closed.

Rhodey and Bucky exchange a look of pure panic.

“Ma’?” Rhodey asks, slowly. His mother turns from looking up the stairs to look at them. Bucky’s standing next to coat rack and Rhodey’s body is stiff in front of the door.

“No, you’re not leaving,” Roberta says, in an asking tone.

“Ma’…” Rhodey whines again.

“You always stay when you come home,” she says again, crossing her arms.

“Yes, but I promised Bucky I’d take him to the compound tonight,” Rhodey lies, and Bucky wants to jump in and ask him to leave him out of it but Roberta’s eyes are on him then and he feels like sweating.

“Well, Bucky, I insist. Will you stay?” she asks him, ignoring Rhodey’s sighs next to her.

He knows that it is very wrong for him to say yes, but when his mouth says: “Sure, of course, Roberta,” he can’t help but feel slightly less frightened.

Rhodey stares at his mom, who turns proudly to look at him and he shakes his head at her. “Unbelievable,” he mutters and she shrugs. “Fine, I’ll go find a pillow and sleep on the couch,” he says, walking over to the stairs before his mother holds his arm.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “I’m not such an annoying conservative mother, no, you’re sleeping with your partner, don’t be silly,” she says and Bucky knows that in a normal situation he would’ve laughed, but he was panicking because he wasn’t Rhodey’s actual partner and for all the things they’ve done together in the last couple of months, sleeping in the same bed is not one. “I mean, I’m sure you’re both capable of being on the same bed and behaving,” she adds.

Bucky looks like he’s choking on air, Rhodey drops his head to his hand, embarrassed.

“Ma’,” he whines, again, wrinkling his nose.

“Alright, whatever, go make up the room, end of discussion,” she commands and Rhodey gives him the uttermost helpless glance he’s ever given him before he rushes upstairs as is mother starts pushing him to.

When he’s up, Bucky lets his mouth fall open and his eyes wander in every place of the corridor. This is so very bad.

But then Roberta is walking over to him and grabbing his metal hand and Bucky swallows. “This looks very advanced and nice,” she comments, smiling at it. Bucky nods and gives her a small smile, hard as it was. She moves then to grab Bucky’s flesh hand and then looks up at him. “Thank you, Bucky,” she says, putting her hands with his close together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him like this,” she adds.

Bucky glances up at the second floor and sees lights being turned on. “Like what?” he asks, looking back at her.

Roberta blinks, those Rhodey eyes looking shiny. “Genuinely happy,” she answers, and she’s not exactly crying but there’s a heavy feeling in her eyes and Bucky wants to die. But not like, _die_ die, more like _die because none of this is true_ die.

“Your son is very important to me,” he says, because he can’t take another lie, so he tells her something he can. “And you have a very beautiful family,” he adds, giving her hand a squeeze with his hand.

“Aw, I’m glad you had a good time. I hope we can see you here on Christmas, the whole family comes,” she says, and Bucky swallows and he wants to have this, he wants to have this so badly it’s starting to hurt.

When Rhodey says it’s done, Bucky feels his eyes watering.

Roberta looks at him for a long second and then does something that makes Bucky feel like crying for the next decade, she pulls him slowly into a hug and rubs his back with her hand.

“It was a real pleasure meeting you, Bucky,” she whispers to his ear and Bucky wraps his hands around her torso, blinking so he doesn’t cry.

God, he missed this, he missed having this.

Roberta gives him once last glance and then she squeezes his hand before going upstairs after turning the lights off.

“Goodnight, ma’,” Rhodey mutters, kissing her cheek. Then he looks at Bucky, lit by the light of the corridor upstairs and bites his lower lip.

Bucky walks up to him looking to the floor, and follows him to his room soundlessly. Lila's rubbing her eyes in front of the doorframe.

“I wanted to say goodnight and—,” she yawns again and Bucky kneels in front of her. “It was cool meeting you, Bucky,” she finishes, sleepy.

“You, too, Lila,” he says, softly patting her head once.

She leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek and then runs to Rhodey’s legs and stands on her tiptoes as Rhodey leans down and she drops a kiss to his cheek, too.

Bucky holds himself together as Lila looks back to him again and he gives her a last smile.

“I hope you bring him to my birthday,” she mutters to Rhodey, before leaving out the door.

When Rhodey quietly closes the door behind him and whispers a curse, Bucky lets himself groan and falls sitting on the bed, the sheets are deep blue and covered in spaceships and moons and stars and Bucky pictures a tiny Rhodey rolling in it in the lazy afternoons and Bucky wants so much to feel alright but he can't stop thinking about his family and how nice Rhodey’s is and how they lied to all of them.

“Bucky?” Rhodey calls and Bucky just let his head fall on his hands. “I'm so sorry, I had no idea she'd do that, I honestly didn’t think this would happen, I thought you'd tell her something I—,”

“Oh, really? I can't just look at your mother and reject her offer, Rhodey, don’t put this on me,” he shoots and then regrets it.

“I— no, I wasn't, Bucky, I swear. This went _so_ wrong,” Rhodey mutters and he's pacing in the room. Bucky groans again and rubs his hands on his eyes.

“We lied to them, Rhodey, to every single one of them, you know that?” Bucky spits, and Rhodey turns, and stops his pacing.

“I do, Bu—,”

“They're very nice people. Do you know?” Bucky cuts again and his eyes are watering. Rhodey had welcomed to his home, to his family, all based on a lie.

“Yes, Bucky, I know,” he said, slowly walking over to him. Rhodey stood in front of him and waited until Bucky looked up. “Listen, we agreed to this because we were both okay with it but if we’re no longer okay then that's it, I’ll just walk over to my mom's room right now, and I'll tell her everything, Bucky,” Rhodey says, calmly. “I care more about your safety than a stupid bet or keeping my family from annoying me to death,” he adds and Bucky feels a whole different way of wanting to cry.

He shakes his head and bites his lower lip. “It's fine, I don’t want you to do that,” he says and Rhodey drops to sit next to him on the bed.

“That's not it, right?” Rhodey asks, softly, looking at the wall in front of them.

“I can’t stop thinking about my family— my mom, _Jesus_ ,” he curses and drops. His face falls on his hands and he shakes in a sob.

He thinks about his mother with rounded, deep brown eyes and heart-shaped face. Rebecca’s dolls. His father’s baseball bats collection.

Rhodey puts his hand on Bucky knee and doesn’t say anything, just sits there and breathes next to Bucky. He doesn’t say it's all good, that everything's going to be fine, that they’re in piece. He sits there and doesn’t give Bucky bullshit and Bucky doesn’t want to feel like he does but his feelings always manage to get the best out of him anyway. So he cries and sobs and silently thanks whoever is up there for Rhodey’s existence.

“They would've liked you,” Bucky sniffs, after a while. Rhodey rubs a finger on his knee and smiles. “My mom made amazing apple pies— Sarah Rogers was the queen of cookies, but my mom? Everyone loved her pies,” he shares, and tries to sound funny but he chokes a little at the end.

“I’m sure I would’ve liked them, too,” Rhodey says and Bucky wants to have this, wants to be able to have this but he can't. “Bucky, what is it?” Rhodey asks, and this time he does look at him.

“I’m never going to have this,” Bucky says, and smiles bitterly. “It’s not fair, for anyone who ever wants to be with me. I thought I knew everything I couldn’t give, but I forgot this,” he says, and looks down. He's come to accept that a normal relationship, a regular bond with someone, would be a hard, almost impossible, thing to pull. But all the sessions with Dr. Garner had given him a slight false hope that he wasn’t completely broken beyond repair.

Being with him would include a long list of shit no one should have to deal with, and there were things Bucky couldn’t give on top of that.

“Bucky,” Rhodey calls and his voice sounds rough, like there’s a knot in his throat. “I can't tell you that your thoughts, this way you feel, aren't valid. You have reasons to think that,” he says, and then pouts. “But as your friend, I _need_ to tell you that that's bullshit. No one can reject you for what you can’t offer. No one should have to try and pick up all of your pieces to make some jigsaw puzzle, or try to fix you,” Rhodey spoke and his eyes never once dropped from Bucky's. “They should just love each and every broken part of you, individually caress all of them, because you deserve it, Bucky. You’re _worth_ it, and it’s not just because of what you have, it’s because of what you _lost_ and because you’ve managed to make amazing things out of it, you've accomplished so much. Bucky, you're so much more than what happened to you,” he finishes, his hand not moving, his eyes don’t falter.

And for some reason, Bucky believed everything he said.

“So what are we going to do about this?” Rhodey asks after a while.

Bucky sniffs one last time and looks around them; suddenly all of their problems seem less awful. “I guess we could do what I did with Steve when we were little, you’ll put your head up there and I’ll put my head down here,” he says, vaguely. “Or I could just sleep on the floor—,”

“Yeah, no. No one’s sleeping on the floor. I think your first plan is okay,” Rhodey cuts, standing. He walks over to the closet and takes two blankets out. He puts them next to Bucky at the end of the bed and then hands him one. He’s giving him a smile when he’s face changes. “Shit,” he breathes.

“What?”

“I—,” he starts but then he huffs a laugh. “I can’t sleep with the prosthetic, it’s not, uhm, very comfortable,” Rhodey admits and Bucky nods, assuming it was pretty obvious.

“Well, that’s reasonable—,” he’s about to start but then he realizes what Rhodey means. No one’s seen him in his sleep like this, vulnerable and bare. “Oh,” Bucky breathes, and a second later he’s making plans.

“But it’s okay, ‘cause I trust you. I don’t have to feel bad around you, right? It’s just silly,” Rhodey muses and Bucky’s face turns tender. “There’s no need for me to be embarrassed of this with you.”

“Of anything, with anyone. You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Bucky reminds him, raising his eyebrows. “Well, _maybe_ those polo shirts you love wearing,” Bucky jokes and Rhodey gives him a dead look, but then he chuckles.

“So, I’m gonna change,” he trails, walking to the bathroom. “You can take some stuff out of there, change into something more comfortable, okay?” Rhodey instructs, pointing at his closet and Bucky goes to stand up.

Bucky grabs dark green pajama pants and an MIT grey shirt that looked overly-washed.

When Rhodey steps out of the bathroom, it’s the first thing he notices. “Ah, my mom still keeps that,” he comments and Bucky gives him a vague shrug.

“It was this or that air force t-shirt, honestly, I made the _sane_ choice,” Bucky teases, half serious, as he sits on the bed again, and spreads the blanket over his feet.

“Seriously, army boy?” Rhodey asks, raising his eyebrows comically. Bucky shrugs and then sinks on his pillow. Rhodey walks and turns the lamp on the nightstand on before going to light switch and clicking it off.

The room’s only lit by the lamp when Rhodey sits on the bed, one leg half-way laying on it, and starts strapping himself off the prosthetic. Bucky pushes himself up with his elbows and looks at Rhodey’s eyes, focused on his task. He takes the leg on the bed out of the prosthetic first and pulls it up with his hands, laying it still a few inches away from Bucky’s forearm. Then he moves to the other leg and finishes taking the prosthetic off, making it fall on the carpeted floor without much sound. He does the same with his other leg and lets out a deep exhale.

It’s then that he looks at Bucky and Bucky just gives him a steady smile that Rhodey replies. He wiggles a little far from the edge of the bed —consequently closer to Bucky— and drags his legs as he does.

Rhodey pulls his blanket and covers half of his body with it before clicking the light of the lamp off. “Thanks for sleeping with socks on, by the way,” Bucky says, in the dark of the room. “I’d hate to have to smell your stinky feet,” he jokes.

“You know, if I could move my legs, I’d kick you in the head right now,” Rhodey shoots back, face looking down.

Bucky cracks a laugh and then Rhodey pinches his pinky toe, making him shout a _‘hey!’_ instead.

“Good night, you dumb ass,” Rhodey says, with a sort of softness in his voice.

“You, too, _honey_ ,” he jokes and Bucky can’t see him, but when Rhodey chuckles he knows he’s shaking his head.

Bucky falls asleep with the sound of Rhodey’s husky laugh in his head, and if he dreams he’s kissing Rhodey he forgets it when he wakes up.


	7. You Are My Reason Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky’s hated ‘fuck it’ moments almost all his conscious life. Steve’s entirely made out of ‘fuck it’ attitudes, out of reckless behaviors. ‘Fuck it’ has put him in jail once, ‘fuck it’ is why he lost his arm, and ‘fuck it’ is why he and Steve are still living in this century.
> 
> ‘Fuck it’ is, amusingly, the only thing he can think of when Rhodey calls him ‘perfect’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS! The final chapter. This has been a ride. I hope you guys have loved every bit of it as I have. 
> 
> Thanks to [Shirokou](http://shirokou.tumblr.com/), without you this would've looked ugly as hell, I'm sorry for making you beta this monster of a work. You are the best! And thanks to everyone who has left a comment & kudos, your support was really important to me, too. 

The first time, or at least that what he counts as the first time, Rhodey fell in love he was fifteen. Her name was Monica and she had black, curly hair, a smile that could drop you to your knees and nice curves. Rhodey had lost his virginity to her on a summer night in his dad's truck, under a dark blue sky filled with stars. Monica had cried when she realized Rhodey wasn't giving up his dream of joining the military for her and Rhodey had found out that sometimes love wasn't enough.

After her, came Ian: ROTC student like him, with a fixation with rock metal bands and Myspace. Rhodey had gotten dick polaroids as a valentine's card and had choked in a laugh. But Ian's parent didn't like the idea of their son being into boys, especially if they were black, so a week after the lousiest sex-in-the-room-closet in one party, Rhodey learned from one of Ian's friends that they had moved to another city. Rhodey had gotten the shortest text in the history of short texts and had known, for the first time, what heartbreak felt like.

He met Tony after that, and promptly closed his heart for the market to dedicate himself fully to his career. A year later, he fell in love with the sky and then, he met Carol. One he was still in love with, the other was but the nicest memory.

That’s what he wakes up to, thinking about that bubbled up feeling of being in love, those sweaty palms, that easy breathing, right after looking down and seeing Bucky, curled up next to his unmoving legs, soundlessly asleep.

He doesn’t make the connection because he likes being an emotionally constipated moron and the next thing he knows he’s strapping himself into the prosthetic and running to catch breakfast, with Bucky following carelessly, and sleepy, after him.

He kisses his mom goodbye after eating eggs and bacon, and sees Lila take the bus to school, with Bucky’s hand hanging close to his.

They reach the compound some thirty minutes later, at 8:20 am. Rhodey watches Bucky walk out of the Quinjet, and he wants to say something, do something, there’s a heavy pressure on his chest to do anything. He closes and opens his hand to reach for Bucky’s arm before they enter the compound but he doesn’t, he just steps on Bucky’s steps, and stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets.

Bucky’s pushing the button to the elevator and then turning on his feet to rest against the wall. He gives Rhodey a light chuckle at absolutely nothing that he said and it's then Rhodey realizes which state they're at. This is the end of the date, the ‘drop me home’, dragged-out moment. When promises and kisses happen.

It's gotta be some sort of muscle memory, the fact that his body is actually aching for that.

Before he can think more about it, the elevator rings and cracks open. A rushing Peter comes out of it, hoodie and jeans and Spider-man gloves on. “Sorry, late, hi, bye,” he mutters passing by them both.

“Check your hands, Pete!” Rhodey yells, as he enters the elevator. They hear a whispered _‘shit’_ followed by what sounds like books dropping to the ground, and before they can look over, the elevator closes again.

“How has he managed to keep his identity a secret for a year now, I wonder,” Bucky mutters, shaking his head. Rhodey huffs a breath and shrugs, he bites his lip all the way up and only gives Bucky his back. “Are you alright?” Bucky asks, over his shoulder, right before the elevator door opens.

“I’m great,” Rhodey answers, walking out to find Steve, in baggy sweatpants and a seriously tight dark blue t-shirt and Sam behind him, in shorts and a red sweater.

“Look at that,” Sam is the first to speak, smug grin on his face and Rhodey stops being nervous anymore.

“You guys are just getting back from your family’s place?” Steve asks instead, trying to seem casual about it but the smile on his face makes Rhodey feel slightly uneasy.

Bucky nods next to him, with a thin smile.

“How was it?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows too much and Rhodey wants to glare but Steve has no idea about Sam’s suspicions and there really is no point in bringing him into knowledge.

“Great,” Rhodey and Bucky say at unison, and it’s then that Rhodey turns his face to him. Bucky draws the corner of his mouth up in a smile and Rhodey looks at him like he never wants to stop looking at him. He casts his eyes down to the floor as Bucky turns to his friends.

“Well,” Steve drags, trying to ease his proud smile, and looks at his life-time best friend. “Do you want to come with us? ‘Cause we went to your room but you weren’t there, we assumed —,” Rhodey drags his eyes up to catch Steve fighting with his thoughts and Sam trying not to laugh next to him. Steve catches Rhodey’s sudden attention on him and shuts his mouth closed. “—anyways, you weren’t there, we didn’t want to wait, but you’re here now so if you want to join us, we can wait,” he finishes, quickly, avoiding looking at Rhodey’s frowning face. Who knew the captain had such a dirty head.

“Sure, Steve,” Bucky says quietly, his hands in his pockets. He’s going to leave and it’s then that Rhodey’s brain goes numb and insane, because he can’t let of him yet, apparently. 

So he reaches out for Bucky’s arm and stops him. He leans in and drops a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, a soft breath on his face, and Bucky falls stiff as he looks to the sides before Rhodey pulls away and gives him a smile.

Bucky’s entire face looked baffled but Rhodey just locked his eyes on green ones and said: “Thanks for last night, seriously.”

Bucky’s face eased in a flash and then he breathed out a chuckle, looking down. He stood like that for a brief second and then raised his head again, smiling. “Anytime,” he assures him, and Rhodey finds home in his eyes and he doesn’t want to leave but he's not ready to name his feelings so leaving is all he does.

Steve’s smile grows wider as Rhodey leaves and Sam's brows furrows behind him. Bucky doesn’t want to deal with either of those two spectrums so he nods at them before they can say much.

“I'm gonna go change,” he excuses and Steve's smile drops just one bit.

“Well, then, we'll meet you on the road,” Steve says, patting Sam on the shoulder so he'd follow him. Bucky's already halfway to his room.

“Actually, you go ahead. I’ll wait up for him and we’ll catch up with you in a sec,” Sam says, looking at the hallway Bucky just disappeared into.

Steve spins on his track and looks at him and then at the hallway; he's concerned now. “Is everything okay?” he asks and Sam waves him off.

“Yeah, I just wanna know if he gave Rhodey’s mom my message,” he explains, and Steve doesn’t buy it completely but he complies. Sam just stands as he watches Steve jog into the elevator. “Exercise nut job,” he mutters, tenderly as he goes to Bucky’s room. He knocks once and Bucky shouts a ‘come in!’

Bucky’s zipping up his jacket when his eyes land on Sam and then he just sighs and rolls them. “What now?” he asks, annoyed. Sam wants to roll his eyes, too, but he figures he’s had it coming.

“I’m making a time-out. Cutting the bullshit,” Sam says, and Bucky gives him a weird look. “Seriously, I’m not going to try any funny business to get you to give us all of our money back,” he adds.

“That’s weird, you’re giving up, why?” Bucky asks, narrowing his eyes.

Sam gives him a serious look and then just turns around and closes the door behind him. “What the hell is going on?” Sam demands, whispering.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asks, frowning.

“What game are you two playing?” Sam wonders, his eyes searching for something in Bucky.

“What are—,”

“Bucky, didn’t you hear what I just said? I said time-out, I’m backing—,”

“Yeah, I heard it, but I still don’t get—,”

“Rhodey kissed you, on the cheek. He —god, I’m just seeing it—, he took you to his family,” Sam speaks and Bucky can see where he’s going. “All…because of a bet?” Sam is asking more to himself than Bucky and Bucky stands there and frowns. He’s about to retort when Sam’s confused face turns into a grin and then he just chuckles and shakes his head.

“What?” Bucky mutters.

“You two idiots,” Sam breathes out, still not looking at him. “Bucky,” Sam drags, as he walks around in his room and grabs one of Bucky’s pillows. Bucky’s frown turns deeper, “As your friend, and Rhodey’s, I’m going to ask you a question and if you don’t answer honestly I will throws this at you,” he says, like it makes sense.

“What?” Bucky mutters and Sam finally looks at him in the eyes.

“Are you in love with Rhodey?”

Bucky hasn’t even gotten to the ‘o’ when he’s dodging Sam’s shot.

“Sam!” he yells, as Sam jumps on his bed and grabs the other pillow to start hitting him with it.

“Admit it,” he yells repeatedly as he keeps hitting Bucky’s right shoulder. “Admit it,” he yells again and moves to hit Bucky on his torso.

“I’m not in love with Rhodey!” Bucky yells back, catching his breath when Sam hits slightly on the stomach.

“Bullshit,” Sam yells but he’s cracking a laugh and Bucky just gets frustrated. He starts shielding himself with his arms so Sam just goes and starts hitting him on the head instead. Hit after hit and Bucky can’t take it anymore.

“Fine! I am,” he yells and falls on his bed sitting, his arms still shielding him from Sam’s blows. It’s not that Sam’s hits make him dizzy, it’s this whole thing, this whole mess.

Sam’s dropped the baggy pillow on the floor and kneels next to Bucky. Bucky doesn’t look back at Sam while he lets the realization sink in. His eyes wander around his room and then out the window and then the walls and then the door, because there’s a part of his brain that wants to run but there’s also another part of his brain that wants to laugh out loud and smile and fucking breathe easy air for the first time in a really, really long time, and Bucky doesn’t know which part he should listen to.

“Bucky?” Sam calls, trying to reach for his shoulder, but Bucky inhales deeply and Sam’s hand stops mid-air.

“I don’t know what this means, Sam. Not anymore, I don’t,” Bucky mutters, his eyes looking at nothing. And that’s the truth, really: for all the progress he’s made, end of the day, he still doesn’t know what to do with love. He hasn’t told Steve he’s loved him since decades ago. No, he just made sure to be there for him, he held him when he cried at night before they came back to the compound, because Steve hated himself for breaking his team up. He hasn’t told Sam he considers him his family, as much as Steve is, but he makes sure to listen to him, when he tells Bucky his war stories and his views on everything, he makes sure Sam knows he has Bucky’s back, that’s he’s there for anything Sam needs.

He can’t possibly even begin to know how to deal with loving someone romantically.

But he knows, almost with sheer panic, that he can’t let go off Rhodey. He knows, like a long lost memory, that the jump his heart makes when Rhodey smiles at him means something. He knows, and it’s not suffocating, that he can trust Rhodey with anything, such as his feelings, such as his heart.

But Bucky’s been so accustomed to fear that even though he knows all of that, he’s still afraid. But like that kind of afraid you feel when you’re about to jump into the pool from a high spot. That fear that’s stuck in your throat as it says ‘God, I want to do this’.

“Hey,” Sam whispers, searching for Bucky’s eyes. “For what is worth, I’m pretty positive he feels the same,” he shrugs and Bucky looks at him, tries to smile but fails. “Hey, look. Don’t mind me, I’m just messin’ with ya’,” Sam says as he reaches Bucky’s shoulder. “You don’t have to figure this thing out. Rhodey’s not going anywhere, okay?” he reassures. “Seriously, Rhodey’s lost too, like, he hasn’t even realized,” Sam opens his eyes wide as he raises his eyebrows and Bucky cracks a laugh as he frowns.

“Very observant you are, you ass,” he says, but it’s tender. Sam looks like he’s on safe ground again. “I’m not freaking out — I mean, I am, but like, it’s okay, it’s a good kind of panic, I guess,” Bucky says, smiling at last.

“So, what’s the plan?” Sam asks, almost excitedly, Bucky loses the smile to give him a dead-stare. “Right, you don’t have to know, okay,” Sam repeated, nodding.

Bucky took another deep breath. “It’s all good. It’s not like something’s gonna change,” he trusted.

\---

Rhodey figures, eventually, that the night at his mom’s changed something. It’s not the knot in his throat when he catches himself thinking about Bucky during the rest of the whole day, or the hint of anxiety he feels when he looks at the door expecting him to come into his lab, no, that’s still the same.

What changed was the small hope he felt, deep inside, that Bucky was coming back, sometime, anytime. And that Rhodey could see him, and be near him, and hear him laugh or talk or anything.

What changed was that Rhodey was now aware of Bucky’s very prominent presence in his life, very huge place in his heart.

“Hey,” Bucky says a day later, coming into the lab in the morning.

“No!” Rhodey shouts and launches himself onto Bucky, pushing him against the wall right next to the doorframe of his lab as and the, arguably small, explosion goes off in the worktable a second later.

Rhodey starts to slowly open his eyes when the fire alarm rings and water starts pouring from parts of the ceiling.

“So this is what Steve’s always complaining about with Stark, huh?” Bucky asks, unamused, with drops of water rolling down his face. His bag of food is getting as wet as his t-shirt, that’s turning into darker shades of grey over his shoulder and his chest, where Rhodey’s hand is laying spread, right above his heart.

They’re more physical now, that’s changed, too.

“I’m better than Tony,” Rhodey mutters, raising his eyebrows.

Bucky finally opens his eyes to stare at Rhodey. “Part of me is afraid of asking what he does, but also, part of me knows you’re better than Stark, anyway, so,” he says, moving away from Rhodey’s hold, and shaking the brown bag into dry-ness. “Got you breakfast,” he says, turning back to Rhodey.

Rhodey smiles and nods. “Thanks,” he says, and goes to his work table again. The new stick is completely fried and humming, damn Steve and his acrobatics, he had a perfect new toy and now he has to re-make it.

“What was that?” Bucky asks, walking over to stand next to him.

 

“Uh, nothing. I wanted something to go nice with the big gun,” Rhodey mutters, dropping the useless pieces to the trash and keeping some of the good ones. He grabs the blue-prints for all the weapon ideas and gives them a last look, before rolling them and putting them in the drawer. “I missed you last night,” Rhodey drops as soon as he turns.

Bucky flinches a little before giving him a tiny, and also a little confused, smile.

“I mean, after we saw each other in the morning, I didn’t see you all day,” Rhodey goes again, because he can’t stop, apparently.

He bites his lower lip and closes his eyes in regret as a part of his brain is anxiously yelling ‘you’re being clingy!’ in red bright lights.

Bucky cracks a laugh almost as if he’s had a front-row seat in Rhodey’s internal breakdown. “I missed you, too,” he says before Rhodey can take anything back. “I went with Sam to the mall after we jogged with Steve. We stayed for a while there talking, Sam’s kinda down because T’Challa left,” Bucky explains, walking over to sit on the couch.

“Oh, yeah,” Rhodey recalls. “How long’s he gonna be in Wakanda?” he asks.

Bucky shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. And it’s not only that, it’s also the fact that he’s probably going to come back with a wife and all. Wakandans are already starting to ask for an heir, and well, you know,” Bucky trails. “It’s not going to hold, Sam says, people will ask questions, be against it,” he says and Rhodey suddenly feels a whole lot different than he did when Bucky walked in.

“Damn,” Rhodey breathes as he falls on his chair, right in front of Bucky. “How is he?” he asks.

“Well, he’s upset, obviously. Guess he didn’t plan out the whole royalty rules 101,” Bucky says bitterly, with a pout.

Rhodey huffs and shakes his head, instead. “If falling in love was a matter of choosing between options the least troubled one, well, music artists would have a hard time getting their inspiration boosted,” he commented, looking at his hands.

Bucky stares off at the horizon for a while and then sighs. “Time hasn’t changed humanity, it seems,” he says.

“Nope,” Rhodey agrees, immediately. “The world’s still as racist, homophobic, and judgmental as you left it,” he adds. “But I’m willing to take a leap of faith, to be honest. Wakandas are ahead of every other society, always, in everything. And T’Challa,” Rhodey takes a deep breath before he smiles faintly at his hands. “He seems like the kind of man who fights for what he wants, and he certainly wants to be with Sam so,” he moves one shoulder up. “I’m sure he’s going to find a way to make it happen,” he finishes with one small smile.

Bucky returns it, and sighs again. “Well, be sure to tell Sam this, he needs it,” he says.

Rhodey nods just once and goes to bite down on the sandwich that Bucky brought.

He’s taking the third bite when Bucky asks, “What’s that?” as he points at the box lying in the computers table. Rhodey turns to find what Bucky’s point at and swallows the bit of sandwich in his mouth with a smile.

“Just a couple of things my mom sent in this morning,” he says, and Bucky walks by him towards the box. “Some old stuff, honestly. But Andrew said that it would be better for me if I had things here. If I finally settled some place as my home,” Rhodey says, remembering his last trip to Dr. Garner’s office.

\---

_“What is it?” Andrew says, looking down at his notes, after Rhodey’s done telling him about the last baseball game he watched last week, briefly mentioning that Bucky’s a Yankee’s fan, naturally, and that Sam didn’t like baseball at all._

_Rhodey frowns at him a little and then blinks._

_“Rhodey,” he says, with that voice of his, and Rhodey prepares for a ride of things-he-doesn’t-want-to-hear. “I said, you seem happy, and you talked to me about this game, but I feel like that’s hardly it,” he says, carelessly, only making eye contact at last._

_Rhodey shrugs vaguely and puts his right foot over his left knee, that prosthetic feeling comfortable. “Well, that’s what happened,” he says and the doctor smiles down, slightly. “What?” Rhodey tries._

_“Rhodey, are you seeing someone?” he asks, crossing his legs and putting away his leather binder._

_Rhodey’s brain — the traitor — flashes a Bucky image almost a second later. Rhodey pushes the thought away as he scoffs. “Why would— like how banal that you’d think that, as if being with someone is the only way I’d be happy,” Rhodey says, quietly._

_“Alright, that is true. But human beings are a creature of companionship, romantic or sexual or just platonic, it doesn’t matter,” he explains. “Being with someone will have an effect on your life, positive or negative, so,” he finishes._

_“Well, honestly, I just think that us — the work you and me have been doing here, it’s what’s made me a little happy,” he says, and it’s true. Dr. Garner gives him a fond smile but a firm look. Rhodey figures then why this man managed to actually marry The Calvary once._

_“I believe so, too. And I’m glad you acknowledge this as an achievement of yours,” he says, and Rhodey would’ve smiled but he knows the man isn’t over with it. “But I’m going to ask again, are you seeing someone?” he asks again, a trust-worthy grin on his face._

_Honestly, Rhodey would be friends with Andrew if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew way too much, like, even more than Tony._

_“No,” Rhodey says, sighing. “I don’t have time, I’m always here,” he says, and he feels there like he’s said what Andrew wanted. He looks at him in the eye and Rhodey knows._

_“So who do you hang out with here?” he goes again, putting his hands on his knees. Rhodey stares at him and inhales. Andrew’s looking innocently at him but Rhodey knows he’s up to something. So Rhodey remembers his stories, about Bucky’s clandestine nights and how he’s never out of his lab._

_“Wait, you_ know _who I hang out with,” Rhodey says, pressing on the verb. Andrew smiles in acceptance._

_“Why are you so afraid of saying ‘Bucky’?” he asks, and Rhodey actually thought they were just over it, poor little fool._

_“I’m not afraid—,” Andrew raises one long eyebrow. “Alright, I knew you’d get the wrong idea,” Rhodey says._

_“What ‘wrong’ idea would that be?” Dr. Garner tries again and Rhodey feels like the first time he walked into his office, when he really didn’t felt like sharing anything with the man. After all the shit Rhodey’s told him, he thinks he at least owes Andrew this._

_“You know,” Rhodey repeats, and Andrew chuckles again._

_“Rhodey, you’re a smart guy,” he reminds him, Rhodey wants to roll his eyes. “Why do you feel like not acknowledging this is helpful?”_

_Rhodey figures being snarky isn’t going to get him out of the office any sooner so he just sighs again. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s just easier. Keeps it simple,” he says and catches as Andrew’s brow furrows._

_“Why would admitting the importance of Bucky in your life be not simple?” he asks. Rhodey has absolutely nothing to say so Andrews shifts his legs and takes his binder again. “It makes you feel fine, safe, right? It’s the simplest thing,” the doctor says. “It’s a bond. Partnership, friendship,” he shrugs before he adds: “Love,” and Rhodey feels his throat closing a little. “It doesn’t matter what name it has, but don’t deny it. Bucky is an important key of your life now. Rhodey, there’s a long way behind you and if you keep yourself from recognizing this, there’s gonna an even longer way ahead,” he finishes._

_Rhodey sits there trying to take everything in, pushing any negativity out._

_Dr. Garner is right, he doesn’t need to panic. Nothing has to drastically change. He’s gonna be fine, they’re gonna be fine._

_“Listen, think of things that make you feel at home. Surround yourself with them, put them in your room, wherever you want,” he instructs. “Well, talk about it next week, sounds good?”_

\----

“What?” Bucky’s light chuckle brings him back and Rhodey moves quickly on his feet to stop Bucky from digging more into his box. By the next second, when Rhodey reaches him, it’s too late. Bucky’s taken out and now holding Rhodey's very only Captain America comic book, his mouth half open as he turns back to him.

“My dad got me that when I was eleven,” Rhodey explains. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he says as Bucky flips through the pages. “This one is a special edition about the Commandos,” he adds, and Bucky raises his eyebrows as he sees the images in the panels.

Bucky’s hand trails through the faces of the men that fought alongside Captain America, alongside him, and Rhodey catches Bucky’s eyes starting to shine.

“They seemed pretty great,” Rhodey says, softly, looking at Bucky.

Bucky nods quietly, and swallows. “They were,” he mutters. He keeps flipping through the pages, telling all kinds of stories about Dum Dum Dugan, Jim Morita and, Rhodey’s favorite when he was a kid, Gabe Jones, along with the rest of them. Bucky’s about to pout and cry when he gets to the page that features him.

Then his entire face changes.

With tiny blue boots and red tight pants, stood there Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s most loyal sidekick. Rhodey had frowned at the image when he first saw it, along with Cap, while everybody else thought they looked fierce and patriotic. “Yeah, I thought you looked pretty ridiculous,” he chuckles, while Bucky’s making a disgusted face.

“I have never, _ever,_ dressed like that, _in my life_ , ever,” Bucky points, and tosses the comic to the side. “I have no idea where they got that design from,” he says, and he looks genuinely offended. “Like, the Smithsonian people got it right,” he adds, as he turns to Rhodey.

“I know,” Rhodey agrees, raising his eyebrows.

“Like, the blue, _grown-up-man_ , jacket. That was cool, wasn’t it?” Bucky asks, and Rhodey can’t help but laugh. “I’m serious,” he says, but he smiles a little at the end.

“I know, I know. I went to the Washington exhibit once,” Rhodey says, taking a breath. Bucky turns to him and raises his eyebrows.

“You did?” he asks.

“Yeah, after I got the armor they asked me to go to there, work with the secret service and all that,” Rhodey explains and Bucky nods slowly. “I was out most of the times, searching for whoever was a threat back then,” he says.

“Attack dog, were you?” Bucky inquires, a hint of amusement. Rhodey moves one shoulder up as agreement and Bucky lets out a scoff. “Wow, that’d make an awesome story. ‘America’s ex-attack dog is now dating KGB’s ex-secret weapon’,” Bucky jokes, cracking, and Rhodey pretends Bucky’s laugh isn’t the best sound he’s ever heard.

“I’d think the key words there are ‘ex’, so,” Rhodey comments.

“Well, did you like it?” Bucky asks, and Rhodey frowns a little before he remembers Bucky’s talking about the exhibit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhodey replies. “It was way better than that comic. And you really stood out there,” Rhodey says and Bucky gives him a dead look. “What? I mean it,” Rhodey says, defensively.

“They put it up, again,” Bucky says, casting his eyes down, and his throat starts closing. “My bit in the exhibit,” he adds.

“Really?”

“Yeah, they made it bigger, even. Have a whole room dedicated to saying what happened,” Bucky says, holding onto the edge of the box of Rhodey’s stuff. “It’s part of the deal that Nelson lawyer guy got, re-build my public image, all that,” Bucky finishes.

“Bucky, that’s great,” Rhodey says, fully turning to him. Bucky smiles faintly and Rhodey pats him in the shoulder. “That’s great,” Rhodey repeats, and the hand starts to fall off but Bucky wants to keep it there forever, supporting him.

“Yeah?” Rhodey nods soundlessly, and Bucky looks down for one more time. “Would you— like to come with me, when I visit it? They opened it like a month ago but I haven’t built up the courage to go so—,”

“I’d love to go with you,” Rhodey cuts in, all honesty and warmness. Bucky realizes there that’s the Rhodey trait he loves the most, somehow the guy’s managed to stay truthful and pure after a shitstorm of bullshit. Rhodey’s light has managed to keep on shining through years of darkness. Bucky catches the old Polaroid instant camera when he looks down into the box again. “What about this?” he mumbles as Rhodey watches him reach with a snort.

“I— kinda had a thing for photography back then,” Rhodey mentions as Bucky inspects every detail on it. He smiles at the tiny, marker-written, ‘J.R.R.’ by one of the sides of it. Then he sets it down and sees a big blue book. “That’s— yeah,” Rhodey can barely explain before Bucky opens it.

Inside there are a bunch of amazingly taken pictures, labelled in simple words as “Philly afternoon, 1985” and “Roscoe” and “Tony’s 21st birthday”. “Is that Stark?” Bucky asks quietly as he points to the picture of young Tony opening his hand towards the lens, as if to shield himself from the picture. Big, black glasses and no goatee Tony Stark looked like another person entirely. Somewhat rested, somewhat happy, without so many demons and traumas.

Bucky didn’t need to do the math to know that was before Hydra sent him to kill Tony’s parents, so he swallows hard and flips the page with his previous smile gone. He saw more pics, of the sky, of airplanes, one that was labelled “Carol, 2000”, and then one last of a tiny baby with a “Michael” scratched and Lila written under it in a bright pink marker.

Both Rhodey and Bucky smile at that one.

“You should probably pick up this hobby again, you seem quite good at it,” Bucky comments before handing Rhodey back the album, then goes back to sit on the couch as Rhodey is standing pensive next to his box, the room almost already dry.

\---

They end up going to the exhibit a week later, and they bring Sam with them, because otherwise he would’ve just stood there all day looking like a kicked puppy. They all went wearing their incognito outfits, which yes, consisted of caps and jackets and Rhodey this time decided not to wear a fucking polo.

They walked in and Sam without prompting left them behind to go to Peggy’s side of the exhibit, Bucky only walked close next to Rhodey, who kept talking about what he knew about the WWII, about the war propaganda and how Steve irked him as a symbol, before he met him as a man.

When they reached Bucky’s side, Rhodey fell silent and Bucky turned to give him a smile before they went inside the room titled “The Real Story behind Bucky Barnes”.

Rhodey saw Bucky’s shoulder go up and down as he took a deep breath, and caught as Sam joined them at last.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable in both the schoolyard and the battlefield,” came the narrator voice in the room, repetitive, when one stood in front of the first stand with Bucky’s entire biography written on it. This time instead of setting a date of death, it had a blank space. “Barnes was believed to be the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of this country…in a way, he did,” the narrator trailed off, and Rhodey fought the urge to hold Bucky’s hand. “Captured by one of HYDRA’s head, Doctor Arnim Zola, Sergeant Barnes was tortured into becoming the Soviets most lethal weapon: the Winter Soldier. Erasing his memory as a loyal American ally, they turned him into the most skilled assassin of our era,” Bucky flinches when they show footage of his — of his — last visit to Washington, Sam’s hand closing tightly behind him.

“A puppet, he was, unable to move by himself, think by himself. The puppeteers? Captain America’s historical villains: the nazi organization Barnes himself almost

died to defeat,” the speaker says, with a certain tone. “Rumors say it was his friendship to the Man out of Time that brought him back, some others claim a source of magic. Either way, James Barnes is now a changed man, apart from his young, cheerful self when he was a ladies man before joining the 107th division, and more so apart from his mind-controlled, soviet soldier self. Fighting alongside the registered New Avengers team, with an enhanced bionic arm, Barnes has been reborn as a superhero,” the speaker finishes as the footage shows Bucky taking some kids out of a burning car.

“Join us in section seven to hear more about Barnes’ journey and his involvement in the Superhero Civil War of 2016,” a lady speaker says now, instructing the rest of the tourists to another side of the room. Rhodey catches with the corner of his eyes a couple of girls with rubbed eyeliner and messy brown hair and he smiles faintly before looking at Bucky, Sam mimicking him from Bucky’s left side.

“That could’ve been worse,” Sam mutters, pressing his lips in a thin line.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Bucky says, eyes down as he reads the encryption of his biography, the tip of his finger running smoothly across ‘son of Winifred C. Barnes’.

“Yeah, first ‘most skilled assassin of our era’? I’m sorry, but, Natasha?” Sam says, jokingly. “And, ‘ladies man’? I wonder when is this room going to have a section, all like ‘Winter Soldier and War Machine: love between sidekicks’,” he goes on, making signs in the air as he says the title.

Rhodey shakes his head, but his smile is giving him away, thankfully Bucky’s giving him his back anyway. “I don’t know, probably around the time Wakanda has a museum dedicated to their bird King: Sam Wilson,” he says, and regrets it just as soon. Sam’s stance drops entirely and Rhodey wants to kick himself a bit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he’s quick to apologize.

Sam waves him off and readjusts his cap. “Don’t worry,” he says, but it doesn’t even sound like Sam Wilson. Bucky and Rhodey exchange a helpless look. “What about you, man? You okay?” Sam asks Bucky, kicking the floor with his heel.

“Yeah, I said it wasn’t so bad,” Bucky assures but his shoulders are down. Rhodey places a grounding hand on his shoulder and doesn’t say anything with his mouth, lets his eyes do the job. Bucky smiles and tilts his head. “I’m glad you came with me,” he tells him, before he turns and addresses Sam: “Both of you,” he adds.

Sam rolls his eyes and turns around, dramatically waving his hand. “Yeah, right,” he says, sarcastically. “I’m only Lumière in this romantic evening,” he says, in a fake-sad tone, as he starts walking away from them.

“Who the hell is that?” Bucky asks Rhodey, following Sam.

“That’s the candelabra guy from Beauty and the Beast,” Rhodey replies, walking as well.

“Wait, who’s the Beast?” Bucky yells and Sam turns, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Of course it’s you, you idiot. Have you seen how you eat?” Sam says, in a high pitch. Bucky reaches him and puts his arm across Sam’s shoulder and shakes him in a hug. Rhodey smiles at the exchange before he walks over to them.

“Does that make Steve the Clock man?” Rhodey asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Natasha is the Clock. Steve is Mrs. Potts,” Sam goes along, and all of three of them laugh. “Tony can be Maurice, but that’s only because he’s soon going to become a crazy, inventor old man,” he adds. “Who’s the tiny tea cup?” Bucky wonders.

“Peter,” Sam and Rhodey say at unison.

Rhodey slings another arm on Sam’s shoulder, above Bucky’s, and smiles at him. Sam switches between looking at him and then back at Bucky.

“I’m ruining your date, aren’t I?” Sam asks, quietly, there’s a tiny grin that’s aiming for amusement but Rhodey just waits a second and it falters.

“No,” Rhodey drags, wearing an honest smile. “We’re doing this for you,” he adds, it’s a half-truth. “Bucky needed his friends with him to come here, and you needed to get out a bit,” he says, later.

Bucky squeezes Sam’s shoulder under Rhodey’s armpit and they both turn to him. Bucky smiles widely and Rhodey’s about to reply to it when he blurs Bucky out and catches the image hanging behind Bucky in the wall.

“Bucky, look,” Rhodey says, because Sam’s already turning fully to it, a laugh bubbling up inside his throat.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bucky yells when he turns and sees the poster.

Standing proudly in his tiny cyan blue boots and hands on his hip, the comic book version of Bucky hangs in the room’s most giant poster.

They go to the ice cream place nearby the compound later and Rhodey makes sure to tell Sam the same thing he told Bucky earlier in the lab. Sam takes several deep breaths and doesn’t say much but when they get home later his goodnight hug lingers longer than they usually do.

After it he smiles Bucky goodbye, too, and falls asleep to the image of Bucky’s green eyes.

The next week doesn’t change much. Bucky’s still permanently attached to the couch behind him in his lab, permanently bringing him coffee and food, permanently in Rhodey’s head.

They keep pretending they’re dating for longer that Rhodey had previously deemed necessary, but there’s a tug in his heart whenever anyone acknowledges them as boyfriends. All of them had a different set of the same reaction: Wanda would turn her head to one side and smile widely, Peter would do a thumbs up, Vision would nod and say something totally weird about “human connections”, Scott would pout proudly and – that one time – suggest them to go on a quintuple date with his friend Luis and his partners, Steve would smile so widely Rhodey would actually say it’s fucking up his features and Tony would make throw up noises that would be given away as fake by a tender grin towards Rhodey a second later.

Sam however, when he wasn’t being a bit sad about his own problems, would look like he’s onto something Rhodey doesn’t know. So he would usually raise his eyebrows and go “you still don’t believe we’re dating?” which Sam would only laugh and leave Rhodey with more questions.

It’s the fourth week when Rhodey realizes that’s actually a month, and he figures that’s it. Any longer wouldn’t be right, any longer would be just weird and make the whole act a lot more complicated to pull.

So when Bucky walks into the lab early in the morning that’s the first thing that bursts out of his mouth.

“We gotta break up,” Rhodey says, and Bucky stops on his track and blinks three times.

“And good morning to you, too,” Bucky says, jokingly. Rhodey stands and takes the bag of bagels and Starbucks coffee from Bucky’s hands.

“I’m sorry, good morning, Bucky. We have to break up,” Rhodey says again. “It’s been a month,” he adds, and Bucky looks to the side like he’s just realizing it too.

“If…we take any longer it’s gonna be messier to say we just want to stay friends,” Bucky figures and honestly, Rhodey’s trying really hard not to love Bucky but he makes it hard, with all that occasional mental connection and the attentiveness and then there’s his face, honestly, Rhodey’s just a weak man.

“Yeah,” Rhodey supports, because if he stays in his head any longer he’s gonna slip.

Bucky holds his gaze, almost expressionless, and then inhales. “Well?” he asks, and Rhodey figures he should’ve thought this better.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re actually breaking up,” he mentions.

“Right. Because we’re not really together,” Bucky adds, his eyelashes trembling.

The room falls awkwardly silent and Rhodey knows he’s to blame. But then again, Bucky’s right and so is he, they started this for a reason and they had to carry it through.

“Right,” Rhodey says, and it feels like acid on his throat.

“So, uhm, do we go up and tell them—,” Bucky starts but Rhodey just shakes his head.

“No, that’s— why would go and make an announcement about it?” he says, and he’s trying to joke but the laugh dies down at the middle and Bucky’s looking at him like he had the worst idea ever.

Which, he did, a month ago.

“No, let’s just, maybe distance ourselves a little bit? I don’t know, Bucky,” he says, asking, and now it doesn’t sound as bad. Bucky rubs the back of his head and sighs.

“I can go and talk to Steve, you know, make a small show about it, only with him, then…the word will get around, you know how it is,” Bucky suggests, moving one shoulder.

Rhodey looks at him again, and tries to feel happy about Bucky’s solution. “That sounds good,” Rhodey says, but he doesn’t smile.

“So…I’ll do that,” Bucky trails, and makes to start walking.

Rhodey takes a step closer to Bucky, itching to stop him. “You don’t have to go now,” Rhodey says, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he shrugged.

Bucky looked at Rhodey with distant eyes, before he smiled faintly. “I know,” he says. “I still think it’s better if I do,” he finishes, and Rhodey drags his chin down as he nods.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Rhodey says, one last time. Bucky turns just by the door and smiles once more.

“You’re welcome,” he mutters.

For a non-real break up, Rhodey feels quite unsettling.

\----

Bucky doesn’t come back to the lab that day, nor does he come back the next day. By the third day, Rhodey’s figured he should’ve seen it coming, and by the fourth Rhodey’s full-on on denial about being sad about it.

He’s just reaching new levels of workaholic, when Tony storms into his lab at 11:00 p.m.

“What happened?” Tony asks, his arms wide open.

Rhodey, in all of his forty seven years of existing, has known and lived Tony Stark’s different stages of making no-sense. This time, he knew it was one of those.

“’M sorry?” Rhodey mutters, resurfacing from his desk.

“You broke up with Barnes,” Tony states, crossing his arms. Rhodey looks to the sides as he frowns, he doesn’t want to deal with this now.

“You think you can help me out with the stick? I’ve been trying to get it back to work but I must be missing something,” Rhodey asks, turning on his chair to his workdesk.

Tony inhales deeply behind him. “Aw, deflection. It’s cute you’d think that’d work on me — me, who _invented_ that,” Tony mocks him as he reaches Rhodey’s spot. “Seriously, you and Barnes, what happened?”

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “Why do you care? I thought you hated the guy,” Rhodey comments, tapping on his keyboard.

“Well, I did,” Tony admits. “Then I saw you with him, how fucking in awe you were, and it was kind of hard. I have soft spot for you being happy. A Rhodey-happiness weakness, if you may call it,” he says, fast on caffeine.

Rhodey stares at him for longer than necessary before he sighs. “We agreed on ending our brief non-relationship, and just staying friends, yes,” he explains, slowly.

Tony huffs and waves his hand. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. “You and Bucky have been dating for like, almost a year,” he adds, narrowing his brow at Rhodey.

Rhodey knows, deep in his head, that, in all technicalities, Tony is right. He’s having a hard time remembering a time when Bucky wasn’t with him and he was actually happy about himself. Rhodey doesn’t keep track of dates, ever, and that first night in the kitchen seems about as distant as the time when he didn’t have his armor, which is considerably ages ago.

He sighs and looks around, anywhere but at Tony’s face. He searches for excuses but gives up when Tony’s stare doesn’t falter.

“Alright, what do you want from me?” Rhodey asks, exasperated.

Tony wrinkles his nose and then supports himself by the table in front of Rhodey, crossing his legs and his arms. “I want you happy, Rhodey-boo,” he says, moving his eyeslashes.

Rhodey simply rolls his eyes. “Your nickname-calling is getting ridiculous,” he says.

“Cry me a river, sour pants,” Tony replies. “Seriously, Rhodey, I can’t believe you’re making me advocate for Barnes this long, but you gotta get your head out of your ass and get back with him,” he says.

Rhodey looks at Tony for a while and then down, fidgeting with his fingers. “I blew it, and,” Rhodey sighs as he moves one shoulder up. “I don’t know how to fix it,” he confesses. “I don’t even know how to deal with any of this, I just—,” Rhodey swallows. “I just don’t want Bucky gone anymore, it’s only been four days but it feels like an eternity, I mean,” he scoffs, helplessly. “This is just ridiculous,” Rhodey finishes, throwing the tool he was holding on the table.

Tony looks at him for a brief moment and then the corner of his lips draw up just slightly, in a tiny smile. “Shit,” he mutters, and Rhodey stops staring at his hands to look at Tony. “You’re in love, honey-bear,” Tony says and Rhodey doesn’t feel surprised at all.

But he also can’t say he was aware. “Yeah, I guess,” he whispers, like it’s a death sentence.

“Well, first he survives a fall from a running train and now this? Barnes’ a pretty lucky guy,” Tony jokes and Rhodey narrows his brow.

“Tony,” he starts but Tony’s already jumping off the table.

“What? You think this is bad, somehow? Listen, Barnes’ been mopping around for the last three days, like, worse than you right now. And he told Steve some stuff about never trying love again, like, that proves it, right? That he’s in love with you, too,” Tony babbles and Rhodey feels like he’s going to have a headache just from thinking about this.

“Tony, it’s not that—,”

“Simple? Of course it is. Boy likes boy, boy likes boy back, sex,” he says and Rhodey can’t help but groan in response. “Ok, fine, maybe not sex, yet. You and Barnes got some things to deal with first—,”

“Yeah, which is why this isn’t that simple, Tony—,”

“Rhodey, don’t, okay? Like, you always do this. And it’s not fair to you. I’ve managed to have, well, at least for a while, two successful relationships in the last six years and you haven’t allowed yourself to feel anything since, like, ages ago,” Tony says. “Me, I have had two working relationships, me, the most emotionally unstable genius on the planet. How does that make you feel?—“

“Not very well, actually—,”

“Exactly,” Tony nearly shouts, and he buries his big, deer eyes on Rhodey’s brown.

“Fine, what do you want?” Rhodey gives up.

“Just, let me help you—,”

“Tony,” Rhodey whines again. “I don’t think you can help—,”

“’Course I can, trust me. I’ve got a plan,” he says, with a devilish grin.

“Ugh, the last time you said that to me we got banned from ever going to Curacao,” Rhodey glares at him.

Tony gives him a deadface and then rolls his eyes. “We’re not leaving the country this time,” he finishes before storming out of the lab like that explains everything.

\----

It turns out that Tony’s brilliant plan, as they all did when they were in MIT, involved music and booze. Thor was coming back to Earth and Tony decided it wasn’t suspicious to just throw him a welcoming party.

His excuse was that he deserved it after he had been upset about him “not being invited to the War”, as if, anybody wanted to be a part of that, and everybody else just rolled with it. More reasons to sit back and relax from the superhero-ing.

But two entire weeks had passed and Rhodey felt nothing but miserable. He’d see Bucky in the common area and would weakly wave a hand at him to which Bucky would reply with the same weak gesture.

How did they get to this point? Rhodey doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’s to blame for it.

Sam doesn’t talk to him either; he’s too busy being sad about his own fate. So Rhodey greets Helen Cho when she arrives, fist-bumps Foggy Nelson as he walks by him and vanishes to the back bar to sit next to a civilian-clothed Nick Fury, who nods at him when he sits and doesn’t say anything else. Which Rhodey kindly appreciates.

He catches Bucky getting in with a leather jacket and turns to down his shot in one go.

\----

They’ve been playing pool for forty minutes when Steve finally loses the internal battle with himself and asks Bucky what he wants to ask. “Are you sure you’re okay being here? ‘Cause Rhodey looks like he’s had better times than this,” Steve asks-slash-comments. Bucky takes a sip of his asgardian liquor and waves a hand off.

“It’s all good, Steve. Just basic awkwardness, we’ll be fine in a couple of weeks,” Bucky says before bending over to play his turn.

“That’s what you said two weeks ago,” it’s Sam’s voice from behind with two fresh, new beers and he hands one to Steve.

“Why do you drink that, anyway? It’s not like it has an effect on you,” Bucky asks instead.

“It’s so that Sam feels good about himself,” Steve says and only makes Bucky frown.

“It’s not fair I’m out here drinking low-alcohol level beers while you two go on, drinking some century-aged poison, basically,” Sam says.

“But you know Steve still won’t get drunk while you will,” Bucky tries again, which makes Sam only shake his head.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I trust Steve not to let me drunk-dial T’Challa,” he refutes and Bucky nods with a pout.

“Here I thought we were talking about me,” Bucky jokes.

“Well, not everything’s always about you, Bucky,” Steve jokes back and Sam hums a laugh inside the bottle as he takes one long drink.

“Sure, but, for now, it can be. Don’t try to change the subject, Barnes,” Sam goes again as Steve plays his turn.

“Why don’t we talk about Steve instead?” Bucky deflects and Steve scoffs a laugh.

“Oh, no. I’m fixing things with Tony. You had your chance to play relationship counselor with me,” Steve says, moving one finger to the sides at Bucky.

“Actually, I didn’t. I was too busy being framed for mass murder,” Bucky shoots back and they all end up scoffing a laugh. Bucky lets his chest rest easy for a while, the alien alcohol working through him.

“Seriously, Buck, are you okay?” Steve asks, this time a tad bit serious.

“’Course he isn’t, loser’s in love,” Sam burps, and Bucky figures the secret lasted long enough.

“Bucky is _what?_ ” Steve nearly yells, the beer loose in his hand.

Sam raises his eyebrows and nods slowly as he smiles. “You heard it, he admitted it like nearly a month ago,” he says. Both Steve and Sam turn to him with equally smiling faces.

Bucky suddenly wants to find new best friends.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asks, one hint of hurt but mostly he’s just grinning.

“Oh, really, what? In like a little sleep-over as if we were kids?” Bucky tries to joke but Steve’s smile doesn’t fade.

“Only better because now _I’m_ the one with a boyfriend and _you_ are the eternally single one,” he says and Bucky hears Sam faking an ‘ouch!’ next to him. Bucky sighs defeat and sips on his beer.

“I turned into you, this is a horrible dream,” he repeats like that time in the bar in 1945, when he first met Peggy.

Steve smiles a devilish smile before he replies: “Don’t worry, maybe he’s got a friend.”

Bucky figures that if he punches Steve in the face it would crash the party.

“Wait, but,” Steve took a pause to think. Maybe the beer was working after all. “How— are you planning on getting him back?” he asks, the question of the century.

Bucky looks between Steve and Sam like a trapped cat. He gives up and gives them a vague shrug. “How in hell should I know,” he bursts.

Sam rolls his eyes and takes another drink. “Well, do you want to?” A nod. “Great. Follow me, I have an idea,” Sam says, and runs off to the kitchen.

Steve and Bucky stand there watching him go. “That can’t be good, can it?” Bucky asks and Steve pats him on the shoulder.

“He’s not so bad,” he says before tossing the half-full beer to the trash.

Bucky’s just entering the room when Sam appears from his left and hits his forearm with the border of the shield, making a tiny dent right on the spot before the elbow.

“What the hell?!” Bucky yells as Sam goes and hits again, denting it more.

“Ok, I take it back,” Steve mutters behind Bucky. “Sam, what the hell are you doing?” Steve asks, stepping in the middle.

Sam smiles a wide smile and Bucky starts wondering if maybe Sam is a weak drinker. Before Bucky can ask what’s funny Sam stuffs a hand in his pocket and takes it out to throw a Widow bite at his arm again.

Bucky really didn’t miss the burning, electric shot.

“Sam,” Steve shouts.

“I messed up your arm a little bit,” Sam cuts in and Bucky fights the urge to glare at him.

“I know that!” he yells, his left arm temporarily dead. Bucky shifts and rolls it around, like when you have a cramp, and wakes it up. “Question is, why?”

“You have to get it fixed now,” Sam says, this time widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows at Bucky.

“I know, I just don’t get—,”

“I wonder who can help you fix it,” Sam says, loudly, and rolls his eyes, motioning Bucky to look outside the kitchen. From their spot, they could see Rhodey, quietly drinking at the bar, bored and miserable.

“Oh, nice,” Steve says, a smile on his face as Bucky turns back to them.

“I can’t do it,” he says, suddenly self-aware again. Damn serum doesn’t let alcohol do its wonder for too long.

“You have to. Your arm is shit, right now,” Sam says, but Bucky starts walking away from Rhodey’s way. “Go, go. This isn’t up for debate,” Sam says and pushes Bucky out of the kitchen.

Bucky swallows nothing and looks over his shoulder. Sam and Steve make hand gestures to get on moving and Bucky calculates how fast he can run away so that they wouldn’t catch and force the same process.

But then he looks at Rhodey, rolling the tip of his tongue down his wet lips and there’s the urge again, the curiosity. And Bucky doesn’t even remember the last time he actually wanted to kiss somebody so, it was a hard thing to fight.

He starts walking towards with an on-and-off confidence and a whispered prayer. “I need your help,” Bucky lets out as soon as he reaches a clear-hearing distance.

Rhodey startles on his seat and turns uncomfortable to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, nearly jumping off the stool to get closer to him. Bucky shrugs vaguely before showing him Sam’s little work. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“Sam…was being an idiot. I—,” Bucky stutters and Rhodey raises one eyebrow. “He’s drunk, you know, the thing with T’Challa has him all bumped up,” Bucky comments, only half-lying.

Rhodey nods slowly, looking to the kitchen briefly and then turning back to Bucky. “So, uhm, you want me to tell Tony—,”

“No,” Bucky cuts, far too quickly. “I mean, do you want me to tell you to te—,” Bucky stops himself and takes a deep breath, one last pinch of confidence. “I was thinking, maybe, you could give it a try, fix it, yourself?” he asks, almost cryptically.

But Rhodey’s face looks like he’s understanding what Bucky wants, and it’s great for him. “Really?” he asks, a smile slowly forming.

Bucky guesses it’s contagious because he starts smiling, too. “Of course. I need somebody I can trust, and there’s no one I trust more to take care of the arm than you, Rhodey,” he says, quietly.

Rhodey holds his gaze for far too long before he looks down and swallows. “When do you want me to get on working on it?” he asks.

“Uhm, whenever you want,” Bucky replies, fast.

“I have time right now,” Rhodey says, then, and Bucky just chuckles.

“We should probably wait ‘til the party’s over,” Bucky suggests, pressing his lips in a thin, happy line.

“Tomorrow, then?” Rhodey asks again.

“Sure,” Bucky complies, nodding.

“So, it’s a date,” Rhodey says, joking. And Bucky wants to take it back and leave the party to rot just so he can have some time with Rhodey again.

He doesn’t, though, he just smiles down and then nods at Rhodey before running off, back inside the kitchen. The next day Bucky repeats his routine before his and Rhodey’s not-broke up. He goes for a jog —alone because Steve is busy probably having morning sex with his boyfriend and Sam is nursing a monumental hangover after he got far too drunk last night — then he goes for some bagels and black coffee.

As soon as he gets inside Rhodey’s lab he feels like no time had passed, and he can’t help but smile. His books are lying in the same places he had left them, and Rhodey hasn’t picked up any of the mess he had.

Bucky moves his eyes around the place, searching the man in question and soon finds him, with his head resting above his arms on the table. Bucky smiles fondly at the image before disturbing it.

He clears his throat and Rhodey jumps awake. “Hey,” he calls and Rhodey turns quickly. “I got breakfast,” Bucky says, raising up the bag and the coffee.

Rhodey smiles, sleepy, and chuckles. “Hell, I missed that,” he says, smiling, and Bucky doesn’t know what he was doing before Rhodey came into his life.

Bucky can’t deal with staring at Rhodey for too long so he moves his eyes through the place and that’s how he catches a sight of it. Shinning in the worktable lies a brand new arm, with a new style for the star.

Bucky hands Rhodey his breakfast without taking his eyes away from the arm. “You stayed up all night building this?” he asks, looking at it with complete marvel.

Rhodey chuckles again, behind him and puts the bag on the other table before walking towards him. “What would be less pathetic, that or if I tell you I had some designs in store in case you ever asked me to build a new arm for you?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

Bucky turns to him then and smiles his heart out. He would’ve said ‘I love you’ right there and then, but Bucky figured it would probably mess things up. So he bit his lower lip and kept it, just like he had been doing for the last couple of weeks.

“You didn’t have to,” he says, quietly.

“I know,” Rhodey replies, with a vague shrug. “Still wanted to, though,” he adds, and stuffs his hands inside his sweatpants pockets.

“So, when do I try it?” Bucky asks, turning back to look at it once more.

Rhodey breaks the distance to stand next to him. “It’s ready to go,” he answers with a scoff.

“Really? Now?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows a little too high, excited. It’s the first time, ever, he’s excited about an upgrade done to his arm.

Rhodey takes in the excitement and gives Bucky a wide smile before walking around and grabbing up his tools box. He sets it on the table and then pats Bucky to sit on it. “Let’s go, then,” he says as Bucky does as told. “Do you need some anesthetics?”

“No, that’s okay. Trust me, it’s better for me if I’m in all my complete mental faculties, I don’t — it’s not good if I don’t feel in control,” Bucky shares, vaguely. And Rhodey gets it, immediately.

“Sure, of course,” he says and begins his work.

Rhodey starts at 10 am and Bucky never once takes his eyes from his face. He doesn’t need to know what Rhodey’s doing, could be killing him for all Bucky cares, all he wants is to see that face for hours, for days.

Rhodey’s determination shines in his eyes with a burning light and Bucky feels some kind of way when he realizes that determination is fixed on him, on something for him, and it makes Bucky’s heart beat softly, warmly. Rhodey is completely and utterly focused on him and Bucky’s never been so glad to exist, just so he can feel like he does when Rhodey’s looking at him like that, up close.

And up close he can see Rhodey’s wrinkles, he can see the exact spot where Rhodey’s dark eyes shine while he sits there absolutely marveled by the piece of work that is Bucky’s arm. He can see a tiny scar on his forehead of some child story, surely. He can detail the curve of his cheeks to his jaw, the shape of his lips as they open slightly when he lets out a breath or when he licks his lips after he’s done moving wires inside the base of the arm. Up close, Bucky finds he can watch Rhodey looking at him, at everything Bucky is, forever.

Bucky licks his lips attentively and swallows, Rhodey’s too far gone in the technological master piece his arm is to him so Bucky allows himself long minutes to take mental pictures of Rhodey’s face details, so he’d never forget it, so he’d see it, know it, even in the dark, even with his eyes closed.

“You’re staring,” Rhodey mutters, after he removes the arm fully, and then puts a screwdriver in his mouth as he moves something at the base.

Bucky doesn’t startle for one second and just keeps on watching Rhodey work. “I’m gazing,” he says, honest to God. Rhodey loses the hold of his teeth on the screwdriver, that falls on his lap smoothly, and the corner of his mouth draws up.

“It’s creepy,” he jokes and grabs a tiny tweezer.

“Get used to it,” Bucky goes again, and this time he gets Rhodey’s eyes to finally land on him.

Rhodey locks his eyes with Bucky’s for a brief eternity, and Bucky knows, right there, how good they can be to each other, because he doesn’t feel awkward or bad or nervously anxious.

He feels like he belongs there, next to Rhodey, he looks at Rhodey and it’s like _‘oh, there you are, I didn’t think I’d ever find you’._ Like every bump in the broken road that’s his life has led him to this very moment.

“It’s amazing,” Rhodey whispers, in awe. He grabs some small thingy and turns back to Bucky arm. “This is a computer chip Tony developed for one his suits. I re-programmed it for the arm, so you can detach it from your body,” Rhodey explains, showing Bucky the chip. “It’ll help you in case you need to, well, take it off, in a non-painful way. I programmed it to be connected to the wires that the Wakandas installed that go to your neuro-system, so the chip will function only on your brain’s command,” he says, Bucky makes a vague understanding face and Rhodey smiles at it. “Now, when it’s about to be ripped off from you, you can just let it go and it won’t hurt you, physically,” he says, looking down almost ashamed, clearly remembering the last time Bucky’s metallic limb was ripped away from his torso.

Bucky reaches for Rhodey’s hand –the empty one– and squeezes. “Thanks,” he says, quietly. “I just wanted you to fix the stupid dent Sam made and you went and did all of these,” he adds and Rhodey’s soft eyes turn into a frown.

“Are you kidding?” he says, a pitch too high. “I’m not gonna miss the chance to take a look at vintage soviet technology that’s also slightly improved by a Wakandan one, like, that,” Rhodey points at the metal arm, still lying on the table. “Is just, a twenty-first century masterpiece,” he finishes, and Bucky thinks he might be joking but Rhodey looks like there’s a storm of thoughts in his head so Bucky just laughs.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters, dismissing Rhodey’s comment, and letting go of his hand. “I mean it,” Rhodey’s quick to state, his hand lands on Bucky’s thigh out of instinct and Bucky looks at it like it’s touching his soul, instead of just his goddamned leg. “Bucky, it’s perfect,” he starts, looking at Bucky’s eyes and following his sight. “I mean,” he drags, when they’re both looking at his open hand, spread above Bucky’s knee. “You are,” he admits, under his breath but it rings in Bucky’s ear like an explosion, like fireworks.

Bucky’s hated _‘_ fuck it’ moments almost all his conscious life. Steve’s entirely made out of ‘fuck it’ attitudes, out of reckless behaviors. ‘Fuck it’ has put him in jail once, ‘fuck it’ is why he lost his arm, and ‘fuck it’ is why he and Steve are still living in this century.

 _‘Fuck it’_ is, amusingly, the only thing he can think of when Rhodey calls him ‘perfect’.

He leans down just close enough to hope and fail Rhodey can’t see how much he loves him, and before Rhodey’s starts to catch up, Bucky closes the last tiny space of distance between them and kisses him. Suddenly, it’s not ‘fuck it’ that’s on his mind; it’s _‘home’._

Bucky doesn’t want to test his chances so he just presses harder for another second and draws back a little, inhaling Rhodey’s Carolina Herrera For Men scent, saving it in the deepest spots of his broken brain.

He looks down at Rhodey, who’s looking into the distance with slight shock, and Bucky feels like running away for the first time in nearly a year. He starts making up excuses in his head when Rhodey’s entire face changes and before Bucky has time to process what it means Rhodey stands, between his legs, and tilts his head up, grabbing Bucky’s chin to put his mouth on his, again.

Bucky lets Rhodey guide him through the kiss, the duration, the depth. But Rhodey’s cautious, almost as if he’s frighten, and Bucky doesn’t know if that’s to favor him or because of Rhodey himself. Bucky’s been out of the field for quite some time but Rhodey’s case isn’t exactly widely different.

Bucky laughs, because he can’t help it, and it breaks the kiss. “It’s like we’re fucking teenagers,” he mutters, his eyelashes brushing Rhodey’s forehead.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay with all of this,” Rhodey explains, raising his eyebrows at him.

“Oh, me?” Bucky says, putting his hand on his chest. There was a time when any touching set his entire body cold, back when memories were too fresh and wounds were too open. But now that seems like it was a lifetime ago, now Bucky just really wants to keep kissing Rhodey.

So he does.

He crashes his mouth against Rhodey’s for the third time, and it’s just as groundbreaking. He nibbles at Rhodey’s lower lip, remembering how to make it good –he used to be a hella of a good kisser in the 40’s, c’mon–, and smiles faintly enough to make Rhodey catch his own breath.

Rhodey, Bucky learns a moment later, is a fucking tease. When Bucky broke the fourth kiss so they could have some breathing room and then leaned in back, Rhodey twisted his head around and out of Bucky’s reach.

“Stop,” Bucky chuckles, and Rhodey complies, for a little while. He’s sucking Rhodey’s lower lip when Rhodey starts to draw his head back, grinning, making Bucky follow his lips like a thirsty man would go after a bottle of water.

It’s then that Bucky’s only hand lands on the back of Rhodey’s neck, which only makes Rhodey hum a laugh that rings even through Bucky’s throat. He keeps drawing back and Bucky keeps pushing in, up until he’s throwing himself at Rhodey.

Rhodey’s hands grab onto Bucky’s thighs almost immediately and he groans, but Bucky fears it’s not out of pleasure. Rhodey takes one step back and falters, his legs shaking. Bucky tries to hold onto something but there’s nothing to his right and he doesn’t have the arm. He untangles himself from Rhodey’s body a little too late, and Rhodey falls half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, Bucky on top of him. Rhodey breathes, making a lock of Bucky’s hair shake in the air, and then they both start laughing and laughing.

Bucky buries his face on Rhodey’s chest when his stomach starts hurting from the laughter and Rhodey touches his face and rolls a hand through his cheek. Bucky looks up and Rhodey gives him another peck.

“I don’t think the legs can hold both of our weights,” he comments.

“Yeah, I would’ve hold onto something but,” Bucky looks to his left side and Rhodey smiles down at him like he’s everything.

“What a pair we are,” Rhodey says, amused.

“What a pair we are,” Bucky says, in love.

Bucky stands quickly and offers Rhodey his hand to help him up. When Rhodey does, Bucky shifts his chin and drops another kiss to Rhodey’s cheek, making Rhodey snort a laugh.

“C’mon, let’s put the arm on,” Rhodey instructs, with a happy voice. He grabs the chip again and stops just inches away from the base on Bucky’s torso. “This might itch a little first, while it settles itself on the wire,” Rhodey explains, looking at Bucky in the eyes. Bucky nods, trusting Rhodey.

When he puts it, it’s barely a discomfort, just a pinch in his left shoulder, but Bucky sees Rhodey carefully watching him and doesn’t miss the chance. He yells and then laughs when Rhodey startles in his spot.

“Asshole,” Rhodey mutters, but Bucky’s stepping into his area again and the Colonel just bites his lower lip gently. “Go on, put it on,” Rhodey instructs.

Bucky looks at Rhodey lost. “How?” he asks, after a long second.

“With your brain, Bucky. Just, think about it being attached to your body,” he explains. And Bucky stares at him before doing it, but again, he trusts Rhodey, so he closes his eyes and thinks about the arm and the next second he feels the familiar tug on his left. When he opens his eyes again, Rhodey’s look is something akin to absolute marvel and pride.

Bucky wants keep that image in his mind forever.

He runs up to Rhodey and with one swift movement grabs him from his torso and spins him around. Rhodey lets out a tiny ‘hey!’ and Bucky has seconds before he’s kissing him again. It’s like he physically can’t make himself stop kissing Rhodey.

Bucky lets him go just inches from the floor and Rhodey stands unsmoothly and holds onto Bucky’s shirt to gain his balance. “Don’t fall,” Bucky breathes, his chest too heavy.

“It’s too late for that,” Rhodey tells him, with a wink.

Bucky wrinkles his nose and fakes a whine. “Jesus Christ, you’re so corny,” he jokes and Rhodey slaps him on the stomach slightly; both of them laughing. “Rhodey,” Bucky says, when they’re catching a breath, his hand still hanging loose on Rhodey’s hip and Rhodey’s hands still on his shoulders. “Don’t freak out, but I might be a little in love with you,” he confesses, like he’s giving him the time of day.

Rhodey’s brown eyes are shining when he moves his head to one side, narrowing his brow. “Don’t freak out, but I might be a little in love with you, too,” he mutters, and then draws his chin closer to Bucky, to give him a quick, soft kiss.

“Well, fucking, finally,” Stark’s voice comes from behind them. When Rhodey and Bucky turn Tony has a growing grin on his face and Sam, although clearly feeling sick, is holding a cup of coffee up in the air like it’s a victory trophy.

Bucky pretends he doesn’t see the flash of Scott’s phone and Peter whistling loudly, Rhodey tries not to roll his eyes at Steve’s proud smile. “Who won the bet, then?” Wanda asks from the back and everybody realizes something.

Bucky and Rhodey give each other poker faces as their friends argue behind them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> PS. There might be an Epilogue coming. Not making any promises, though....


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to make things right,” he says, simply. Not because he had done something particular wrong but because he failed to talk to Sam like a proper adult and left things unsettled. And even though Sam can hold himself, it still had an effect on him. And T’Challa knows because even in the midst of all the chaos that followed his crowning, he still missed Sam’s silly cat memes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHTY IT'S FINALLY DONE! The epilogue with Sam's happy ending as he _deserved_. 
> 
> HEADS UP FOR SUBTLE SPOILERS OF BLACK PANTHER (They're not really THAT graphic but the movie is set after that film and it does address a final point of it and its first after-credit scene) so like; if you haven't seen it go watch it and then come read this. 
> 
> Thanks again to my buddy [ Shirokou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirokou) for doing the proof-read, you are, as usual, a sweetheart.

_“With all due respect, King T’Challa, what can a nation of farmers offer to the rest of the world?”_

_“_ They really have no fucking clue,” Rhodey mutters and Bucky chuckles on top of him.

“What are we watching?” Sam asks cheerfully as he walks into the living room of the compound. Bucky rolls over to the floor to grab the remote in a swift move and change from CNN showing the latest news on the UN panel their royal friend was currently at.

“This, uhm,” he gives the TV a look to see a bunch of men running around in shorts, chasing a ball. “Sports thing,” he adds. Rhodey closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

Sam crosses his arms and takes the remote from Bucky, who goes back to sitting on the couch and looks down at his hands. Sam clicks on the ‘prev.’ button and swallows when the screen shows the brand new King of Wakanda.

“Damn, he looks fine,” he lets out, almost annoyed. “What’s going on?” he asks them as he sits on the other couch and turns up the volume.

“Apparently Wakanda will no longer stay in the shadows. T’Challa’s changing the country’s foreign policies and he’s even building a help center here in the states, in California,” Rhodey says.

“That’s really nice of him,” Sam replies.

“Yeah. Princess Shuri even reached Rhodey about some improvement for his prosthetics,” Bucky shares and Rhodey gives him a look. “What?”

“I told you I was still considering it so don’t tell anybody so they don’t get excited,” Rhodey tells him.

“What do you mean ‘considering it’? Didn’t you say yourself that Wakandan tech is the best tech in the world?” Sam says.

“Yeah, but I could still die, you know,” Rhodey says, raising his eyebrows. Sam only gives him a poker face look.

“Babe, you have no idea how bright this girl is, like, really. She outsmarts both Stark and Banner in her sleep,” Bucky tells him and then Rhodey sits and stares at his boyfriend giving him puppy eyes.

Rhodey sighs in good defeat. “Alright, I’ll call T’Challa back tomorrow,” he gives and Bucky smiles widely and gives him a soft kiss.

Sam watches the scene and sighs. “Ugh, I miss dating,” he says. “Having someone care about you…”

“What are you talking about? We care about you,” Rhodey says as Bucky places his head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, but you don’t give me orgasms,” Sam adds and his audience groans.

“Why do you have to be so graphic?” Bucky mutters and the room falls silent.

“ _I won’t stand by and watch as this world falls deeper into chaos. My ruling will be different than of those before me,”_ T’Challa says on the TV screen at last, turning to smile at one of the women behind him.

Sam’s stomach absolutely doesn’t sink at the sight. “I need a beer,” he says, standing up and going to the kitchen.

“It’s 10 am on a Tuesday,” Bucky says but Sam only shrugs without turning back to them. Bucky shifts on his spot to look at Rhodey. “It’s been almost a month,” he tells him.

Rhodey only shrugs. “I guess he really liked T’Challa.”

“We should probably go talk to him, get out a bit,” Bucky plans.

“I can’t today. I got physical therapy in an hour,” Rhodey says, rolling his hand down Bucky’s back.

“Oh, want me to go with you?” he asks.

Rhodey lazily closes his eyes a little while shaking his head only once. “I’m good. Tony wants me alone because he claims that you’re taking me away from him,” Rhodey jokes and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Please, I could say the same to him with Steve,” he replies.

“You go with him. Make sure he stops sulking before T’Challa gets here,” Rhodey says and Bucky sits straight, frowning.

“T’Challa’s coming?”

“If I call him to get the appointment with his sister, he will be. He personally promised to be with me during the whole thing. Something about me being one of the few ‘American officials’ he wants to be seen associated with,” Rhodey explains.

“Shit. Alright, I’m gonna get Sam off his ass, good luck on your PTs today,” Bucky says quickly, and then moves to give Rhodey a kiss on the cheek before storming off to another room.

* * *

T’Challa, much like the King of a sovereign nation that he is, comes unannounced about four days later.

“You know, I could have something prepared for you if you only had said you were coming,” Tony addresses him as soon as the backdoor of the special Wakandan flying ship is sliding open.

“That is exactly what I wanted to avoid,” T’Challa says as he starts walking towards him.

“Right, because who wants a welcome party,” Shuri says, tagging along behind him.

“Oh, I believe this is the brightest mind of our century. Your Highness,” Tony says, doing a bow and Shuri smiles at him.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, taking off her sunglasses.

“Where is everybody?” T’Challa asks, instead.

“Steve’s deployed on a mission with Wanda, Barnes and Vision. Natasha’s having a few days off with Clint and his family. Peter’s on a school trip. I have no idea where Lang is and fuck if I care. Aaand, Rhodey’s with Sam getting some groceries for your welcome party, because you’re absolutely having one,” Tony tells him in a rush and Shuri whispers a tiny ‘yes!’ as he starts walking inside the compound with the King and Princess of Wakanda, along with their very scary bodyguards, behind him.

“I’m telling you, his girlfriend is a wasp, like, she turns into a wasp,” Sam’s voice is heard as soon as they reach the inside of the compound.

T’Challa closes his hand in a ball at the sound and Shuri doesn’t miss it. “Don’t freeze,” she whispers, a tiny smile on her face and T’Challa turns to her to glare. Tony knows better than to wonder.

“How can someone just turn into a wasp? Is she like Peter?” Rhodey’s voice comes but he still isn’t in the scene, but Sam’s no longer focused on their conversation. Instead he’s holding tightly to his brown bag as his eyes land of T’Challa. “Sam, is she like Peter?” Rhodey repeats again, once he’s fully come inside but the phrase is only barely out of his mouth when he’s following Sam’s eyes to their front. “Your Highness,” Rhodey greets and then bumps Sam’s shoulder with his own lightly.

“Your Highness,” Sam repeats but his throat sounds dry. He glares at Tony next, he said T’Challa would come in two hours.

T’Challa, on his end, just stands there in an all black suit, Wakandan styled, and smiles at Sam like there’s no one else in the room, but he’s not moving.

Shuri saves her laugh and only clears her throat. “Well, since my brother seems to have lost his manners. I’m Shuri,” she speaks, waving at Rhodey and Sam and they immediately both blink at her presence.

“Shuri—” Sam lets out excitedly.

“Princess—” Rhodey says at the same time instead, almost embarrassed he didn’t notice her.

“Which one is the air force colonel and which one is Sam?” she asks, putting her hands together in a ball. Behind her, T’Challa’s whispering her name in warning. Rhodey and Sam pay him no mind.

“I’m Colonel James Rhodes, Your Highness,” Rhodey says, doing a little nod.

“And I’m Sam. No title. Anymore,” Sam shrugs, giving a light chuckle at the end.

“Oh, no, but you’re the one my brother talks about—”

“Shuri!”

The Princess giggles at her brother’s embarrassed yell, but she doesn’t meet Sam’s eyes. She goes to Rhodey instead. “My brother tells me I can help you,” she tells him with an asking tone.

“I believe so,” Rhodey replies with a smile.

“Do you have some quiet place here where I can look you up?” she asks and Rhodey frowns.

“I thought we were using Wakanda tech,” he says, his eyes on T’Challa.

“Don’t worry. I brought my tech with me,” Shuri tells him, showing him what looks like a tiny purse.

“Alright, I got my lab,” Rhodey tells her vaguely, a bag with potato chips and Doritos hanging from his other hand.

“Let’s go,” she says. “Give these two some privacy, while Stark sets up my brother’s welcome party,” she instructs, with a smile on her face.

Tony blinks in the back and goes: “Oh, alright, there’s a whole persona I forgot that was really good at making parties,” he says, grabbing the bags from Rhodey and Sam.

“No naked chicks, Tones,” Rhodey pleads.

“Or naked people, period. And no explosions, either. Rhodey’s told me enough about your MIT years,” Sam adds, almost glaring at Tony’s disappearing figure into the common kitchen of the compound.   
Rhodey gives Sam a short glance, almost sending him morale support, and then motions Shuri the way to his lab, while texting Bucky that they got here.

“My brother says you still have doubts about me being able to help you,” Shuri says, her hands clasped together.

Rhodey looks up from his phone and then scratches the back of his head. “It’s not doubts about your tech, Princess—”

“Shuri is okay,” she asks and Rhodey smiles at her.

“Shuri—it’s more about me. I’m kind of…afraid,” Rhodey says, quietly.

Shuri regards him with silence and an understanding nod but then she moves to his shoulder and whispers, “You do know I rearranged a man’s spine, right?” and Rhodey lets out a chuckle.

“Yeah. And Bucky also talked wonders about you,” he tells her and her eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, right, you’re dating. How is he?” she asks as they enter Rhodey’s lab.

“He’s great. I kinda updated your version of his arm,” Rhodey says, shyly.

“Oh, yeah, that old thing. I only paid half of the attention while making it; I was actually slightly annoyed at my brother bringing random white strangers for me to help,” she says and Rhodey chokes another laugh. “It’s different now, but, still,” she adds.

“You really want to help people?” Rhodey asks her and Shuri smiles widely at him and nods.

“It’s all I’m here for,” she replies.

“That and setting up T’Challa with Sam again,” Rhodey says and Shuri tries to seem like she has no clue. “Hey, I went to MIT so you’re not the only smart brain here,” he says and then Shuri sighs in defeat.

“Well, you got me. I want my brother to be happy a little,” she says, shrugging.

“Just another thing we have in common, then,” Rhodey says and the Princess of Wakanda smiles.

“So tell me, how did you “improve” my model of the arm?” 

* * *

“How are you?” T’Challa asks helplessly out of ideas when eighty seconds of silence have passed.

“Why is your little sister trying to set us up and why did you talk to her about me?” Sam just wonders, crossing his arms. He’s moved past being mad or hurt; now he’s just confused and slightly embarrassed.

“First the press conference at California and now this. I guess I’m getting bombarded with questions today, then,” T’Challa mutters but Sam only raises his eyebrows. “I want to make things right,” he says, simply. Not because he had done something particular wrong but because he failed to talk to Sam like a proper adult and left things unsettled. And even though Sam can hold himself, it still had an effect on him. And T’Challa knows because even in the midst of all the chaos that followed his crowning, he still missed Sam’s silly cat memes. “Can we leave here, so we can talk?” he asks him, his eyes almost closed.

Sam eyes him for a still moment and then sighs. “Is there a point?” he asks, not annoyed or upset, just blandly curious, and T’Challa fears his time’s up.

“I promise,” he tells him.

They get in one of Stark’s model cars and some thirty minutes later, they’re in the busy streets of New York. Sam pulls over near a park and it takes T’Challa just a few minutes to get where he’s at after he sees one sign.

"So this is the famous Central Park?" T'Challa asks Sam as they start walking through the place, with several kids playing and people talking around them.

"You've never come here?" Sam asks, frowning.

T'Challa shrugs. "The only tourist places of America that I've been are the White House and Disneyland, but don't tell Shuri that," he says and Sam only gives him a small smile.

"Well, I thought you'd appreciate the scenery. The sun sets really nice here, but nothing like Harlem," he says and T'Challa clicks his tongue.

"You should see Wakanda," he says and Sam's face changes.

He's pouting as he gives a single nod and then stops on their tracks. "You said you wanted to talk so, talk," he says, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets.

T'Challa takes a pause and avoids Sam's searching brown eyes. "I know I didn't leave things right—”

"There was nothing to be left right," Sam replies, and he almost sells it.

T'Challa then changes his stance, remembers Nakia's lost eyes whenever he's asked her to stay in Wakanda, like she's afraid T'Challa can see just how much she wants to grant him his request. Much like her, Sam stands in all his built up courage and built up walls. 'Make sure he sees no weak spots, ain't no point in making this harder for him, for us'.

_'Damn, I really have a type,'_ T'Challa thinks amusedly and smiles at Sam, who's then lost in his moves. "Now that's just a lie," he says and locks eyes with him.

And then Sam's barriers crack. He bites his lower lip and his eyes water a little as he adverts them from T'Challa's gaze. Then he shrugs in a 'What do you want me to say?' motion and T'Challa takes a step closer.

"I'm trying to make right a lot of things now, so, let me include this on the list," he says and Sam wrinkles his nose.

"This?"

"Us," T'Challa expands.

"How?"

At that he smiles, widely and purely. "For starters, I have never kissed you," he says, almost purring the answer. Sam draws only one eyebrow slightly up and T'Challa leaves no room for second-questions; a King mustn’t ever ask twice.

His lips only so much as brush Sam's, tasting the waters, before he’s backing away, but Sam's hand catches him mid-action and pulls at his long dress-shirt. The Falcon gets his own taste like he's not going to be the bird the cat ate, but it's not harsh or rushed. It's soft and inexplicably homey, familiar. Sam ends it before T'Challa can get more caught up on him, his scent. And then smiles.

"How are you gonna manage this?"

He just waves his hand. "Just trust me," T'Challa reassures.

"If you could work this out, why did you leave like that and have me believing you didn't want none of this?" he asks then, pushing T'Challa on his shoulder and starting to walk again.

"You have no idea the couple of weeks I just had," he tells him. Sam quirks one eyebrow and T'Challa spends the rest of the day talking to him about the stressful days that followed his rise to power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, 
> 
> Fin.


End file.
